


Police Dog

by ADeadlySheep



Category: The Wolf Among Us
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Blood, Body Horror, F/M, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Monster Sex, Implied Sexual Content, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-20 22:03:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 30,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13726890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ADeadlySheep/pseuds/ADeadlySheep
Summary: Fabletown was thought of as a myth to humans until you joined the police force and assigned to help out the sheriff of said town with strings of crimes and murders all while keeping the safety of the fables intact.





	1. Reconstruction Coming Soon

Hello fellow TWAU and Fables fans!

We are still devastated from the closing of Telltale, but here's to hoping Vertigo and DC license it to someone else to remake the game and make a new one!

Anywho, we will be rewriting this story soon!

Reconstruction Date Anticipated Start:

April 21st, 2019

We hope you will look forward to our new updates! You can always follow us on our Tumblr @sheep-and-lykos for more!


	2. Recruitment

The briefing room was rowdy today, the officers joking around as they arm wrestled and cracked jokes to one another. I felt bad for those who decided to use this time as the extra time to work on paperwork assigned by the Captain. Sergeants were bragging about the cases they were assigned to help out with as the detectives bragged about who they were able to lay down with the previous night, one male describing a woman's breasts as being "The juiciest watermelons I've ever seen." It was just the normal officers that were making the most noise, laughing and banging on the metal tables in anger as their card games didn't go in their favor.

I kept my eyes forward, looking up at the podium and the whiteboards behind it, looking over the map of New York and studying the mass amount of crimes for our district, hoping to receive the one that barely anyone wanted as to be by yourself during the assignment. The officers here weren't what you expected, but they were tolerable to a certain extent.

You kept your eyes on the whiteboards until the door opened and the room suddenly became quiet except for the sound of expensive loafers clicking against the polished tiled floor.

Everyone's eyes were set on the Captain and the multiple fat stacks of folders he had tucked under his arms. One was so thick with files and evidence that you were actually interested in what it was for, what crime had to be solved with what was inside of that folder.

The Captain slid the stacks onto the metal table behind the podium, motioning a Sergeant to stand behind him as to help him pass out the case files.

His tanned hands gripped onto the glossy wood podium as he stared at the room, looking over every single one of the policemen and women he had under his command.

"Ladies. Gentlemen," he started, "Our district was assigned multiple cases that the other districts here in Manhattan could not solve, so consider ourselves lucky that they didn't just give this to another borough. Let's get right to it so you all can get started," he said as he released his hands from the podium. He held a hand out and on cue, the Sergeant behind him had placed a thin folder into the Captain's hand.

"Martins, Deloris, Hammons, you three have the homicide case from Eastern Chinatown."

Three men stood up from the back, high fiving each other as they made their ways toward the Captain to retrieve their file.

"Richmond sisters, you two have the robbery at the ferry station," the Captain droned on as the Sergeant placed a thinner folder into the Captain's hand.

The twins jumped up and practically ran to the Captain, gathering their folder, and racing off while betting who could find the first good clue.

That's how it went on for at least thirty minutes.

Weldt, Hence, Bierman: ATM robbery in the 7-Eleven on Main.

Elliots, Mayr, Grace, Wood: Murder in Downtown Manhattan.

Vatter triplets:

French and Sand:

It was down to ten officers by this point until the Captain had looked up and straight at me.

"(L/N)," he called as he held out the thinnest case file I have ever seen.

I smiled softly and stood up, taking the folder before exiting out from where the Captain had entered. As I walked down the corridor, my thumb slipped down and opened the folder only to be confused. There was only a folded sticky note stuck to the center of the folder.

I was convinced the Captain had made the mistake of giving you a blank folder. Should I wait outside of the door and wait for the Captain to come out and ask for a new assignment? Would he get mad? He shouldn't if I was simply pointing out the small mistake.

But curiosity took over my actions and I soon found myself unfolding the sticky note.

Meet me in my office when I'm done handing out assignments.

So this wasn't a mistake.

Was this a secret assignment?

Was he sending me out on my own for something important? Something dangerous?

I weaved through the crowd, avoiding those who wanted to look at my case file and ignoring those who laughed at how thin the folder in my hand was.

While everyone was busy laughing at idiotic jokes and resuming their games and arm wrestling, I slipped into the Captain's office and sat down in one of the leather chairs across from his desk and waited for his return.

During the wait, I couldn't help but feel anxiety bubble up in the back of my throat.

Was I going to be fired?

Did something happen to my family?

What was going on?

My thoughts were interrupted when the Captain's door opened and the man himself didn't say a word, instead, he just sat down in his chair behind his desk and looked at me.

"Sir, you called me in here. What do you need?" I asked.

"I have a special assignment (L/N)," he said as he sat forward, resting his elbows on his desk while keeping his eyes on me at all times.

"What is it, sir?"

"Have you seen the district of Fabletown?"

Fabletown? What was that? Why hadn't you learned of it in the police academy? Why hadn't you seen any signs or locations on the map of Manhattan?

"No, I haven't sir," you answered as you shook your head slightly.

"I figured. Fabletown can be guessed as the hidden driveway of Manhattan if that example helps you out."

Fabletown was hidden on the map of Manhattan? How is that possible?

"What about Fabletown? What is my assignment?"

"I am assigning you to help out the Fabletown district seeing as they only have one police officer and the crimes over in that district needs help."

"But why me, Captain?"

"The one who called and pleaded with me requested someone who cares about the little people, and I knew you would be the one for the job seeing as you help everyone you come across ever since you joined this police force. So I offered you. If you have a problem, I have a few case files right here and I will assign someone else to do this work," the Captain said as he withdrew a stack of thin folders from under his desk and set them on top of his desk.

"No no, I'll do it. Thank you, Captain," I smiled softly.

"Okay," my boss said as he replaced the folders from where they came from. "The police officer for Fabletown is here right now, I'll call him in."

I only nodded and watched as he pressed a button on his office phone and the receptionist instantly picked up.

"Yes, Captain?" the old lady asked.

"Milley, can you send in Sheriff Wolf, tell him to come to my office please?"

"Of course, sir," she said as she hung up.

"I wish you luck, Officer," he said as he stood up from his chair and held out a hand for me to shake.

Taking it quickly, I shook his hand and nodded back.

"Thank you, sir."

The door to the Captain's office opened and closed quickly. There stood a man with brown hair and thick, arched eyebrows. Stubble littered his chiseled face as a cigarette was held between his lips, ready to be lit. He wore a simple white button up, black slacks, a black tie and a pair of black loafers.

"Is this her?" the sheriff asked as his chocolate brown eyes landed on my form.

"This is her, Officer (Y/N) (L/N)," my Captain said.

"Thank you, Captain," the Sheriff said as he opened the door and motioned for me to go first.

"Good luck you two," the Captain called out before his door closed.

* * *

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	3. Into The Woodlands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is to be updated every Sunday.

As soon as he shut the door to the Captain's office, he did a word and proceeded to motion his head for me to walk with him. The other Officers and Sergeants and Detectives just looked at us as if we were two strangers in the building, their eyes either wide or confused. I did my best to keep up with his long strides, even having to break into a small jog to keep up after going down the flights of stairs. His long legs carried him out of the front door which he held open as he was finally allowed to reach into his pocket and pull out a bulky, gold-plated lighter and flipped the clunky top open.

"Thank you," I murmured as I stepped outside, watching as he seemed to instinctively sniff the air as he drew the flame closer to his cigarette.

"This way," he muttered behind closed lips encasing his now burning cigarette.

I didn't say anything else, only instead, I did as I was told as I watched a large puff of smoke release from his lips and enter the air.

He was a man of little words, I could read that from his body language as soon as I saw him enter the Captain's office. He seemed like he was the type of man to prefer small talk over long periods of speaking at most, probably prefering silence after all.

He seemed like the kind of cop that cuts straight to the point, no time for bullshit and no time for fake answers or news. He also wasn't shy of the stereotypical cop charade with the smoking and the gruff looks on his face.

As time grew longer while we were walking, I started to pay attention to how he wandered around the Manhattan streets, weaving through the roads and across the streets, hooking around corners and across a few small bridges. Whenever we would come close to a crowd of people clustered on a sidewalk, he would take my hand firmly and pull me through as to not get hit by oncoming traffic on the streets. I could hear his loafers click against the cracked and poorly paved sidewalks over all of the honking from cabs and truck drivers to the loud chatter of people on their phones and children whining.

It got to the point in our duration of walking that I started to realize that we were in a part of Manhattan that I barely recognized, and Sheriff Wolf was still walking on until he had to stomp out his cigarette and he just went right back to walking.

A part of me wanted to ask how much longer we had until we got there, but I refrained from asking out of fear he would see me as childish. Instead, I kept my mouth shut and continued to follow him until I just had to stop and look around.

"Where are we?" I asked him as I looked around at the buildings.

This was a completely new territory. I had no idea where I was and where I was going. I haven't even seen a single person or active car in the streets for the last two minutes! It was like a ghost town.

"We're heading to Fabletown," Sheriff Wolf stated as he kept walking.

"I figured as much, but the Captain described it as the hidden drive of Manhattan. This is just a straight up ghost town."

"That's how it should be," Sheriff Wolf stated as he came to a stop.

He turned back to me and looked me straight in the eye, giving me his full attention.

"What do you mean by that?"

"You don't know much about Fabletown, do you?" he asked as his shoulders rolled back.

"No, I don't."

"Well if there's one thing you need to know is that we live in secret to humans." He saw my face contort in confusion at his last word. "We're Fables in Fabletown. Monsters from children's books, Princes and Princesses in a modern time, all of your childhood tales are true and they live on in Fabletown. Fairy tales like Snow White and the Seven Dwarves? They're real. So is the tale of Beauty and the Beast. Every fairy tale you knew growing up is real in Fabletown."

"Are you being serious?"

I couldn't stop myself from asking that.

Sheriff Wolf just chuckled and shrugged.

"You'll find out if you believe me or not." He turned around, showing me his back once more. "But just know that we're supposed to live in secret, and this abandoned neighborhood was the perfect cover for us. You're the only human to ever grace Fabletown's presence, everyone else stays away since they think this abandoned neighborhood is haunted."

"What do you mean by that now, Sheriff?"

"Just keep walking, you'll find out soon enough," he called over his shoulder.

I wanted to ask that question again for the third time, but I figured Sheriff Wolf would become annoyed if that's all I asked of him, so I kept my lips sealed and continued walking behind him.

It was at least another three minutes of silence when I was suddenly blanketed in a weird feeling. It felt like pressure was hugging every curve and edge of my body, forcing me to look down at the street.

But then... it just stopped.

"We're here," Sheriff Wolf stated as he turned to look in my direction.

As I slowly looked up, I noticed things that weren't there before. Instead of destroyed homes and small offices, there stood colorful brick and metal buildings. There were some people in the street and cars driving on the roads. It was the exact opposite of the ghost town I was just looking at seconds ago. I turned back the way we came from to see the abandoned neighborhood standing there in all of its ruined glory.

"Why did I..?" my words died down as I couldn't help but look in between the slightly bustling town to my right and the stranded ruins to my left. "What?"

"You wanna keep going back and forth between the field?" Sheriff Wolf chuckled as I heard him light up another cigarette.

"Field?"

"There's a field that protects Fabletown from being viewed by the human eyes. That's why you felt pressure building up on your body until it released as soon as you entered." He saw me still looking between the two areas. "Walk outside of Fabletown, then walk back in. Tell me what you observed."

Slowly, I walked towards the edge of Fabletown and pushed myself through the pressure build up - this time it forced my eyes shut - until I suddenly lost balance and nearly tumbled over until I caught myself.

There ahead of my field of vision laid the ghost town I was just looking at. Performing a 180, my eyes widened as all I saw ahead of me was just... more abandoned buildings. It was as if Fabletown had never existed. Sheriff Wolf wasn't even in front of me anymore, but I could still catch a faint whiff of his cheap cigarette brand.

I walked forward and pushed past the barrier's pressure, this time popping me out quicker than the last two times, and there stood Sheriff Wolf.

"What did you see?" he asked as he knocked off the extra ash from his cigarette.

"I couldn't see you or this town. It was as if you never existed," I simply said as my eyes wandered from building to building.

"That's how we want it, not a single trace of us is visible until we step out of this barrier. I'm usually the only one who does and the only people who know about us are the Police Captains of Manhattan."

"You take that hidden drive metaphor to the next level."

"Yes, we do. Now come on, follow me. We need to head to The Woodlands, the Business Office is there. I'll fill you in on the details there, so just take in the scenery until we get there."

"Can't you fill me in on some information?" I asked as Sheriff Wolf went to turn around.

"It's mostly thefts, assaults, and one homicide. Is that enough or do you want more information?"

"That's fine for now. Thank you."

He let out a deep hum before he spun around. Once more, his back was turned to me and he proceeded to walk forward with myself trailing behind him.

All types of shops and buildings we passed had started to catch my attention:

  * Sleeping Beauty's Mattress Store - Fall into a sleep-like death with mattresses these royal.
  * Flora, Fauna & Merryweather's Fashion Boutique - Fashion at just a wave of a magic wand.
  * Jiminey Cricket Book Emporium - Books from the past of treasured memories.
  * Tiana's Bakery - Served with Southern Kiss.
  * Gaston's Hunting Supplies - Take down any kind of beast with finely crafted weapons at your disposal.



Sheriff Wolf's back nearly came into contact with my face until I was able to stop at the last second to notice he stopped too.

As I was about to ask what had happened, a large apartment building caught my attention. Marble pillars stuck up from out of the ground as metal fencing connected each pillar together. The building itself was littered with beige and white bricks, standing tall about at least twenty stories, maybe more.

The shine of gold caught my attention as I looked over to my right to see the golden plate illuminated by the streetlights.

_~The Woodlands~_

The groan and screeches of metal sparked me out of my thoughts as Sheriff Wolf was holding open a wrought iron gate, waiting for me to enter.

"Thank you," I smiled at him as I entered into the closed-off area.

"Anytime," Sheriff Wolf stated with a smirk on his face.

He had proceeded to walk ahead of me so he could open up the door to the apartment building.

The paved stones leading towards the exit needed to be fixed and the grass needed to be trimmed. Cigarette buds were pressed in between stone after stone, piling up and make sure that anyone wearing heels had a bad day. I could barely see the  _Keep Off Grass Please_  sign from under the weeds and thick blades of green.

As I kept looking around, a question had popped into my head and forced its way past my lips before I could catch it.

"Everyone here is a part of a fairy tale one way or another, correct?"

"Yes."

"What are you then? I don't recall a man going by Sheriff Wolf in any fairy tale I was told as a child."

His back was turned to me, but he turned his head to the side so he could at least have me in his sights.

"Ever heard of the Big Bad Wolf?"

* * *

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	4. Evidence

"The Big Bad Wolf?" I asked while cocking a brow. "I guess that makes sense."

"Really?" Sheriff Wolf chuckled as he reached for the door handle. "I figured mundies like you would either be shocked or scared."

"If fairytale characters are real, then I'm guessing people like Bloody Mary are real too."

"She is," he mused as he pulled the door open and allowed me to step in.

"Thank you. And are you serious?"

"Yep, and she's one of the worst out there."

"I believe it," I sighed as I focused on the room I was now in.

It was a typical hotel lobby: A few dusty chairs and loveseats for people who wished to sit but never have, a large wall of P.O. Boxes with some overfilling with mail, some knick-knacks on the floor to decorate the room like fake potted plants and even a very old and dusty set of armor for a knight. The wallpaper was cheap and clung to the cheap cigarette smoke, dying any bright colors ashy and yellow as the paper itself was peeling off in long curls. Turning a bit to the right, I nearly jumped upon seeing someone sitting there.

It was a man who was passed out at the front desk, a security guard uniform donning his body as his hat hid his smushed, tired face from everyone. Snores and tired moans escaped him as he barely moved in his nap.

"Oh him? Nobody can wake him up," Sheriff Wolf chuckled as he turned to the P.O. Boxes. "I need to fix this," I heard him grumble. Turning away from the sleeping security guard to Sheriff Wolf, I saw him picking up a piece of paper before sticking it to the list of renters for the apartments. "I'll probably just forget again."

"So this is the building where your office is in? It just seems like a normal apartment building."

"The magic lies at the top of the complex," Sheriff Wolf stated as he walked over to one of the elevators. "And below as well, but our business resides at the top for now."

"What's at the bottom?" I asked as I was now next to him, allowing him to press the button to go up.

"Holding cells, a big ballroom, and The Witching Well."

"The Witching Well?"

"It's... You can say it's our form of... execution," he said slowly as he stepped into the opening elevator.

"Oh," was all I said as I stepped inside with him.

The elevator was no better than the lobby: The beige wallpaper that tried to resemble a simple floral chain design was peeling into long coils from years of abuse from cigarettes and neglect from the complex workers. There were chips and cracks and dents and scratches littering the walls that the light only illuminated as the elevator started its creaky ascension. Even the lightbulb was old as it hung bare on the ceiling, looking like it was fresh out of a dusty box from the forties. It acted like one too, flickering and buzzing like no tomorrow.

The cogs groaned and squeaked, letting the elevator cavity swing a bit as it only rose with the - hopefully - strong iron cables and wires. My eyes stayed glued to the meter above the door, dinging every time we pass a floor. My eyes were focused on the top floor that only read: Business Offices in black script.

"Does this normally happen with the elevator?" I had asked as a few pops leaked from above as if the elevator was fitting into place once more.

"Yeah. This place is getting old and repairs and upgrades have been pushed back constantly since we're understaffed and overworked," Sheriff Wolf said as he slid his large hands into his pants pockets.

The final ding was louder than the rest, startling me out of my thoughts and making my shoulders twitch a bit. Sheriff Wolf hesitated and waited for the doors to crack and creak open slowly before he placed a hand on the opened sliding doors, allowing me to exit first out of this death trap.

Taking it quickly, I practically jumped out and was met with a gold-painted plaque.

_< \- Business Office_

_Glamour ^ Witches_

_Sheriff Wolf's Office - >_

"Let's go," Sheriff Wolf stated as he walked down the left corridor.

"So you were mentioning  thefts, assaults, and a homicide?" I questioned as I tried to match my pace with his.

"You can read into them when we get inside," he said as he rounded a corner with me on his tail.

I was shocked to see a line of people waiting with anger etched into their faces and patience thining just by looking at their eyes. Some were cursing to one another quietly, mocking this new system of government while some openly cursed aloud at how bullshit it was that they had to get a mundy job in order to survive and make a living.

What was a mundy and why did it annoy these people?

As I opened my mouth and turned to Sheriff Wolf once more, he held up a hand and sent a look back at me that just practically told me to wait until we were alone. Nodding my head, I simply followed him past the line of waiting people until we reached the door when Sheriff Wolf was grabbed by his bicep and yanked back.

"What the fuck are you gonna do about us,  _Sheriff_?" a man asked as a sneer had replaced his frown I had just seen him with. "We've been waitin' weeks for help, and all of you business freaks keep pushing us back into waitin' rooms and dozens of lists! When are we going to see some fixes?"

"I'm not the person you take this up with," Sheriff Wolf snapped as he yanked his bicep away from the other man. "You either take it up with Crane or Bluebeard, not me or Snow."

The man grit his teeth and glared at Sheriff Wolf until his eyes - or eye really as one was milky white and the other a muddy green - landed on me. His eyebrows arched and his hands bolted into tight fists.

"You brought a mundy into Fabletown?" he growled.

"This is Officer (Y/n) (L/N)," Sheriff Wolf motioned to me. "She's here to help with the cases that have been stacked on my desks so Snow White, Crane and Bluebeard can attend to you all sooner."

That shut the man up and made the rest in line relax a bit, but their eyes stayed glued to me.

Without another word coming from either men nor the crowd, Sheriff Wolf turned around and opened the door and allowed me to pass. With a soft thank you coming from me, his lips curled into a small smile and followed me into the room.

It took me an actual minute to realize this room wasn't just a normal business room from the tv shows and the magazines and... you know... the actual offices I have been to. This place was huge. I'm not saying huge just because it was gigantic and possibly took up the whole floor, but because it was practically a clown car! The walls had to be at least four stories tall, the bookshelves were practically made for giants, and the floor space was most likely the size of three football fields side by side.

My eyes felt as if they had become saucers, the size of large dinner plates just by looking at this room.

"Woah," I softly whispered as I took another step into the room.

It felt as if I was a toddler again from how large it all was, especially when there were small, human-sized desks and chairs in the room.

"If you wanna be even more impressed, look up at the ceiling," Sheriff Wolf smirked as he walked deeper into the room.

Curiosity shot through me and I found myself looking up not even a second after Sheriff Wolf had said that and my jaw dropped.

There was a flying ship!

There was a big pirate ship simply floating around the upper level of the room, weaving past gigantic and elegant chandeliers and hanging decorations straight out of other fairy tale books. The old wooden boards slightly groaned every time it made a sharp turn in the air as the naval blue sail quietly flapped around.

But what I couldn't understand was how these people managed to fit this gigantic pirate ship in here!

"How did...? How come..?" I started.

I couldn't finish my sentences.

"Magic," was all he said. 

I finally pulled my attention away from t flying ship to see Sheriff Wolf digging around in a drawer of a desk that had the nametag: Snow White. As he was grumbling to himself for a minute or two, he finally pulled out three big files and a few thinner ones until he finally heaved one of the largest files I have ever seen and plopped it down on the desk.

"Let me guess: The homicide is the largest case file?" I asked as I walked up to the desk.

It was a clean, oak wood desk that was free of scratches and scuffs. Small knick knacks were placed with care along with photographs of two women: One with black hair and one with red. There was a bottle of possibly expensive perfume and a deck of tarot cards with some faced up with a new fortune, and some faced down so they hid the future.

"Is this you're first homicide case?" Sheriff Wolf asked as he carried the files to an empty table not too far from Snow White's desk.

"No, my third. You can say it was my first though, all I did was question victims. I didn't go into crime scenes."

"Oh, you'll be seeing crime scenes alright," Sheriff Wolf chuckled as he sorted the files out. "These are the theft reports. All of them have suspects, although the best subject is Jack Horner," Sheriff Wolf stated as he flipped the three thinnest files open. There was a picture of a man with a blond ponytail and baby blue eyes with a five o' clock shadow and a smug smirk playing on his lips. "The assaults have fewer leads since the victims are still being patched up, but we do have some suspects," he said as he flipped open the filled case files. "Finally, the homicide: With all of this information that has no suspects or leads, but a lot of information that doesn't seem to overlap."

The papers inside of the stuffed file slid around and out of the file.

"There are no leads?" I asked in disbelief. "In all of this information?"

"Not a single one."

My jaw slackened as I picked up a piece of evidence.

_Victims: Wendy Darling, John Darling & Michael Darling._

_Suspects: None_

"If these are the same people from the Peter Pan fairy tale, then why don't you look at Captain Hook or Peter Pan himself?" I asked.

"Captain Hook is dead and Peter Pan hasn't been in Fabletown for years," Sheriff Wolf stated as he dug into his pocket and lit up a cigarette.

"He could've come back Mr. Wolf," a nasily voice called next to me.

"Exactly," I agreed as I turned to look at whoever said that.

There stood a green-furred monkey with solid black eyes and green feathered wings smiling, showing off his white teeth.

The color drained from my face as I slowly backed away behind Sheriff Wolf who was chewing at the end of the cigarette that was clamped between his sharp teeth.

"Then what's his motive, Bufkin?" he asked as he let out a large cloud of tobacco smoke.

Does Sheriff Wolf see this thing?

"I don't know, but he could be a suspect considering his and Ms. Wendy's relationship, especially to her brothers."

Sheriff Wolf shrugged and slid the file up and flipped through the papers.

Does he know what that thing is?

"If so, then why strike now? Why not earlier when we were all immigrating? That could've been the perfect time for him to strike. There has to be someone else. What about their parents?"

"They're deceased, Mr. Bigby. The same goes for Tiger Lily, The Lost Boys and the whole crew from Captain Hook's crew."

What is that thing? A flying monkey? Like from The Wizard of Oz?

Bigby was silent for another moment as he thought until he snapped his fingers.

"The maid. The Darling's had a maid, right?" he asked as he knocked off the ash from his burning cigarette.

"They did, Mr. Wolf. Are you going along with the cliche' of the maid being the murderer again?" the monkey named Bufkin asked as his wings flapped around a bit.

"It worked the last time, didn't it?"

"True true. But do you think we'll be able to prove it? There is little to no known evidence. Liza is off of the books as well as Peter. Do you think we'll be able to track her down?"

"I can track her down with no problem. Hopefully, the Mirror will cooperate with me on this one."

As Sheriff Wolf was about to open his mouth to speak once more, the old-timey phone started to ring, it's loud chime echoing through the large room. As he walked over to answer it, a woman rushed into the room and closed the door behind her quickly as the crowd waiting outside in a line had now crowded the door as they shouted.

Her face matched that of the picture frame I was looking at not too long ago.

The flying monkey turned around and smiled softly.

"Hello again Ms. Snow, it's great to see you."

"Bigby, we have a problem," she called out.

* * *

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	5. Bar Troubles

Sheriff Wolf set the phone back into the receiver and looked over at the woman as his eyebrows raised before turning back to the desk in front of him.

"What's wrong, Snow?" he asked as he slipped a fancy ink pen into his large fingers.

"There's trouble at that bar that Holly runs and the people out here are getting rowdy!" the woman exclaimed.

"What a coincidence, someone just called in a tip for the same thing," Sheriff Wolf grumbled as he wrote something down on the cigarette carton he kept in his pocket.

"Do you know who it was?"

"They didn't say their name, but I'm guessing it's one of Holly's customers since something was going on in the background."

"A bar fight?" she asked as he stepped away from the door and walked towards us.

"No, but it sounded like an argument."

"Sounds like Holly's bar. There's always an argument going on in there." She turned her bubbly blue eyes to me and her lips stilled for a second before perking up. "Hello there! You must be the officer that was assigned to help Bigby!" she chirped. "I'm Snow White, secretary for Fabletown!" she stuck out a hand.

Her nails looked to be freshly manicured and painted a deep wine red.

Taking her hand firmly, I shook it gently before smiling back at her.

"Officer (Y/n) (L/n) of the Manhattan Police Force," I smiled back.

"I'm glad they got back to us this quickly. We're swamped here with all of the issues and complaints, not to mention the crimes that just happened! We really needed you and you have no idea how much we're thankful for this."

"It's my duty to help the people of Manhattan Ms. White. Fabletown included."

"That's great to hear. Has Bigby filled you in on the details yet?"

I looked over at Sheriff Wolf to see him lighting up a cigarette.

"Bigby?" I asked while raising an eyebrow. "You really do take that big bad wolf thing literally," I chuckled.

"It's more of a nickname the others gave me," Bigby muttered from behind his cigarette. "I just go along with it," he shrugged before puffing out a cloud of smoke.

"I don't mean to cut this all short, but there is an issue going on here and it would be in our best interest to fix it," Snow simply said as she straightened herself. "Good luck you two."

"Thanks, Ms. Snow," I smiled as I followed behind Bigby.

Snow stood there and waved at us slightly while the flying monkey simply stood there watching us leave with his hollow black orbs.

Bigby slipped the cigarette out from his lips and turned his head to me.

"Leave the crowd to me," he simply stated as his large hand turned the knob.

As soon as the door opened, the crowd of people crowded around the door had stiffened upon seeing Bigby standing there. Clearing away and quieting down, Bigby simply strode out which prompted me to stick close behind him. The people around us had their eyes glued on me the whole time until Bigby had made our way out, and even as we walked down the hall the people had their eyes glued on me until I had entered the dingy elevator.

"There was an argument going on while you were on the phone?" I asked as soon as the doors closed.

"Yeah. It was between Holly and someone else. I didn't recognize their voice though," Bigby grumbled as he blew out a cloud of smoke away from me.

"Do you have any leads for who might be causing this?"

"Not really. Besides the maid and Peter, we don't have any actual leads for the homicide still."

"So the only thing we can do is wait," I murmured to myself.

The cogs in the elevator clanked together as the elevator's shell slowly whirled with life as it started its creaky descent down the shaft.

It was eerie and suspenseful inside of the elevator cavity for some reason. It was like something bad could happen or that something was clinging to the air. It was weird.

I hadn't realized that the elevator had come to a stop until the doors had creaked open and Bigby made sure the doors didn't close, motioning his head to the opening while his teeth tightened their grip on the nearly finished cigarette.

"Thanks," I smiled before stepping out.

"Anytime." Bigby walked in front of me and lead me outside before stomping out his cigarette into the sidewalk and tossing his hand out into the busy street to hail a cab. "Whatever is going on at The Trip Trap, it won't end pretty if Holly gets her way."

"She'll kill them?"

"Most likely. Or she'll at least get them to drop some information and take care of the problem herself which would be way worse than killing the poor fools." A cab had pulled over and Bigby opened the side door. "Get in."

* * *

 

We could hear arguments firing from behind the thick oak door between a woman - who was most likely Holly - and two men who sounded alike.

"Fucking Tweedles," Bigby growled as he tried to move the door handle around only to find the door was locked.

"There's no fucking drinks today!" Holly screamed before she was sucked back into her argument.

"It's Bigby! I got a tip about something going on in your bar," Bigby called out as he motioned me back.

"Fuck off, Wolf! I got this."

"No, you don't," Bigby grumbled under his breath.

A sudden crash exploded from inside as Holly started to freak out, the two voices were now becoming angry as they sounded demanding now.

"Just tell us where Bluebeard is!" one shouted.

"He wasn't in his office or his apartment! Just tell us where the fuck he is before we do something too brash to you ma'am," the second voice warned.

"Fuck off! Both of you!" Holly screamed back as glass shattered from behind the door.

"What are we going to do? Break the door down?" I asked as my head shot in Bigby's direction.

"Exactly," Bigby confirmed as he reeled his foot back and let it shoot out to collide with the door.

The door burst open, the hinges groaning as the metal was forced apart, letting the door slip off of its hinges and collide with the wall adjacent to it.

The bar was in the same condition as The Woodlands: Peeling old wallpaper that was changing colors from years of abuse and smoke stains, the carpet was rough and needed to be changed, the walls were littered with dusty pictures and paintings from possibly where she came from and the floor was littered with machines for cigarettes and other stuff like the pool table and the jukebox. Some of the light bulbs were dead, casting a shady curtain over the bar stools and the tables which illuminated the other three people in the bar.

"Bigby, what the fuck was that? Did you really just break in my fucking door?" the woman snapped.

She had white hair and tan skin that was adorned with a red dress and multiple pieces of jewelry. Her blue eyes were flaring with rage and her cheeks were starting to turn a rosy red. Her nails were digging into the wood of the bar.

Across from her were two overweight men. They were identical twins except for the clothing. Their brown eyes were glued to the two of us. The one with a fedora was holding a shotgun that looked to be cocked and loaded.

"I had a plausible cause," Bigby retorted as his hands bunched up into fists. "And what the fuck are you two doing here?" he shot at the twins.

The twins stepped away from Holly and the one wearing the fedora lowered his gun.

"Now now, Wolfie, we're just here to get a little information. That's all, we swear it," the one with the cap warned.

"Getting information from a woman using a shotgun? That's a way to break her Amendments," I snipped.

"Who the fuck is that Bigby?" the fedora twin asked.

"Sleeping with a Mundy?" the capped one smirked.

"She's helping me with some cases. Ones that you two might be involved in none the less," Bigby fired back.

"Bigby," Holly warned. "Fuck off. I have this under control."

"You seem like you could use a little help. And besides Holly, I have my hunch that they know about the Darling homicide."

"We didn't do anything!" the capped twin shouted.

"Both of you are under suspicion of breaking and entering while the one holding a gun can easily be brought in for breaking one of New York's laws: Openly carrying a firearm. I could also tack on assault if Ms. Holly says you did so considering that there are no cameras in here."

"Well, then what about you two? Breaking in here as if you own the place?" the fedora-wearing twin shot back.

"We had a probable clause which is in the Fourth Amendment. If you think you're really private investigators or your own personal cops, try and learn the Amendments and laws."

Both of the men sneered at me as their fat fingers rolled up into tight fists.

"You little slimy whore," the capped one shot back.

"Don't call her that," Bigby snarled as his knuckles popped.

"Before you three destroy my bar and that Mundy officer, take in consideration who Wendy was with," Holly fired back.

"What do you mean, ma'am?" I asked.

"I mean that it was Woody who was with her that day she went missing. She was with him all day, he even brought her here for a drink. I wouldn't serve a minor, and they took off when that girl agreed with me."

The twins smiled, their faces contorting into an ugly view.

"Well Sheriff - and Officer Mundy - are we free to go?" the fedora-wearing twin asked as his ugly smile grew longer.

"Get out of here," Bigby growled.

"With pleasure," the capped one hummed as they made their ways past us.

I mentally gagged from how sweaty and disgusting they smelled. They smelled awful, like hookah that the Caterpillar smokes if they really were from the Alice in Wonderland fairy tale. God, it was awful, especially when it was mixed with their awful body odors.

Bigby turned to look at Holly who had snatched up a nearby broom and started to sweep up the glass shards. He knelt down to take a hold of the dustpan and held it still for her.

"What are you doing, Wolf?" she snipped at Bigby while she continued to sweep.

"Helping you clean up the mess they made," he simply said. Holly stayed silent and continued to brush the broom against the carpeted floor. "Do you wanna press charges against them for all of this?"

"No. Just... let it go, Wolf. It won't do me any good if I can't even afford a lawyer."

Was she having money troubles? It would make sense if she couldn't replace bulbs or hire repairs for anything or to replace the carpet and old furniture.

I slid my hand into my pocket and withdrew a twenty and some coins.

This had to help, right? To at least buy some new bulbs?

I looked up at the bar to see an empty tip jar that seemed to be gathering dust. Smiling softly, I walked up and slipped the money inside, gathering Holly's attention.

"What was that for?" she asked.

It looked like she was confused about my tip.

I shrugged and simply said, "A tip is a tip, and a tip helps people out. You helped me, so I'm helping you."

Holly's eyes widened and Bigby's lips pulled into a smile. Her jaw dropped slightly as she struggled to get words out.

"Thanks," she said as she stopped sweeping. "I appreciate it."

Bigby stood up with a full dustpan and dumped it into the nearest trash can.

"Let's go find Woody (Y/n)," Bigby motioned for the door. "I'll have Flycatcher come by to fix the door Holly," he called over his shoulder as he guided me out.

"Whatever Wolf," she stated as her blue eyes stayed on us until we were out of her sights. 

* * *

[Buy me a Coffee](https://www.buymeacoffee.com/AJhuWmE80)


	6. Rough Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this wasn't updated last week, some personal things came up!  
> But I'm back and this will be updated every Sunday!

"She seems nice," I smiled as Bigby had stuck his hand out into the busy street.

"Just wait until you get on her bad side. You won't be saying that ever again," Bigby chuckled. A taxi had noticed Bigby's large had and made a dangerous cut through the traffic to get to us. "It's getting late. You should get some sleep," he offered as he peeled the yellow door open.

"What about you? Don't your kind need sleep?" I stopped myself from sliding inside.

"Yeah, but you're more important in this case. You're a mundy, you're human and you can't live a long time. Your needs are more important than mine."

"Really?"

"Yep, now come on, he's got the meter running."

Sliding into the cab, Bigby followed and simply gave the driver the address before lying back on the leather seat.

The cab smelled of dirty feet and takeout food and sweat and a faint whiff of vomit with other scents curling inside of my nose. It made me shiver as I wondered who had sat in the same seat I was currently occupying. Bigby didn't seem to be bothered by it at all.

The buildings quickly zoomed by, becoming blurs of blues and grays and browns and reds but it soon became a kaleidoscope of colors. It all blurred together while the dim, pale yellow streetlights illuminated the people standing still and emphasizing the smoke from burning cigarettes and bongs or making the cracks in the bricks stand out like a shooting star in a clear night sky.

You could see whole stories through the quick glances the car would allow you to take. Through the windows that were illuminated by the stale lamps inside, you could write a whole sex novel. On the streets, you could take notes for your police series. In the dusty library on the corner of Yellow Brick Avenue and Tuffet Street, you could publish the world's greatest biographies but never make it in the world of literature.

And so, that was life.

The thin frame of the car provided so little protection from noise that you could hear couples arguing about one cheating or one stealing money or gambling it away, a sweet tune of a lone violin from someone's bedroom, the sounds of glass shatterings and what sounds like someone hacking their lungs up from trying a new drug for the first time.

This was definitely a place in New York City alright. The city that never sleeps and the city that will take it all from you.

Bigby stayed quiet, his honey brown eyes pulled forward to look at the stains embedded into the headrest right in front of him. It looked like he was trying to distinguish one stain from either dried up blood or old ketchup. The brownish crust was peeling and cracking away, but Bigby watched it carefully as his strong nose twitched a bit.

Was he sniffing? He really does stick with this Big Bad Wolf stereotype.

Time just seemed to melt away once more, the creaky car tires screeching and squeaking slightly with every turn the yellow automobile had taken and the slow rocks from the small potholes littering the roads had somehow pushed me to the line of wanting to close my eyes for the remainder of the time.

However, something was eating away at my insides; A question was bubbling in my throat and I had no idea why it was the way it was.

I turned to Bigby to see him still looking at the headrest, his honey brown eyes still focused on the mystery stain as one of his meaty hands reached down to his back pocket and slipped out a notepad.

I watched him scribble down as much as he could in a short amount of time: The cab number, what the driver looked like, the time and the date only for it to be continued blank for when we get out.

"Bigby," I murmured.

"What is it?" he asked as he gave me his full attention.

"Is Woody the Woodsman? Like from Little Red Riding Hood?"

"The one and only."

"Let me guess: You two go way back?"

"He cut me open, put stones in me and tossed me into a lake in the middle of winter if that answers your question."

My eyes widened and I could feel my stomach sink a bit.

"Yeah, it does."

"Okay then."

And there he went to turn his head back to the headrest for his eyes to go back to the stains as he sniffed the cavity of the car as quietly as he could without alerting the driver.

I turned my head to look out of the window once more, my eyes staying on the line of apartments and homes that the fables occupied. The passing streetlights had such a... calming vibe radiating off of the large bulbs and they were set at such a dim intensity that it would make any fussy infant calm down a bit more with every single one they passed.

Every passing light had slowly lulled me to sleep, my forehead slowly pressing harder against the cold glass window and my eyes fluttering to stay open, but with the calm atmosphere... I couldn't help but want to take a small nap.

* * *

"(Y/n)..."

"(Y/n)."

"Officer (L/n)!"

My eyes shot open and my body lurched upwards. My head shot in different directions as my eyes quickly scanned the situation.

I was still in the cab, but it had stopped.

We were in front of The Woodlands and Bigby had a large hand gripping my shoulder. His wrist has stalled and I found myself no longer being rocked gently, but with enough force to wake me from my nap.

"Sorry," I murmured as I shifted in my seat.

"Like I said: You're a mundy, you're human," he simply stated as he helped me out of the taxi.

"You can rest in my apartment, take my bed. I've never used it," he said softly as he guided me along the pavement.

As Bigby went to reach for the door, it burst open and there stood Snow with a worried expression donning her soft features.

"Bigby, something happened while you were away," she confessed as she stood aside.

"What is it?" both Bigby and I asked at the same time.

Exhaustion had suddenly left my body, my shoulders perked up and my mind was no longer fuzzy.

"The Woodsman turned himself... in. He's down in a holding cell, but he's drunk," she slowly said.

Her features were pulled back in confusion.

"Why did you say it like that, Snow?" Bigby asked.

"Because he's just... It's better if you just go down to see him. He's in the first cell. I have to go help Bufkin with some of the books, so good luck," was all she said as she quickly entered an opening elevator.

"I'm guessing by the way you perked up that you wanna watch or help me with him," Bigby offered.

"If you don't mind."

"Follow me," was all he said.

His feet carried him down a hallway and down a long spiral of stairs. The wallpaper cut off into old bricks, cracked and greyed from time and aging poorly. It had gotten cold rather quickly, my shoulders shivering slightly the more we continued down the stairs. We soon reached a metal floor and a long hallway of cells as well as an office to our right.

Bigby took a sharp left and there was a man laying on an uncomfortable cot, moaning about the pains that come with being hungover.

He was bald and pale, his eyes were rimmed red from possibly crying or possibly from the booze he had consumed. His long, brown beard was a mess, some of the locks were curling but it looked as if it had exploded on his face; There was even a bit of vomit clinging to the hairs right under his chapped lips. One of his large hands was wrapped around an empty bottle of whiskey, his knuckles were a bright red and skin was split open, some blood had crusted around the cuts.

His teal plaid shirt had a mixture of blood, alcohol and stomach acid on it, chunks of what he had last eaten were clinging to the thick material. His khaki pants were mostly soaked with what I was hoping was water and not urine.

He looked as horrible as he smelled.

He smelled like he was dying.

Bigby sighed and slowly moved towards the thick steel bars and fiddled around with the lock before digging in his pocket for a golden key. The bars slid open with a groan and Bigby stepped in slowly, reaching down and removing the bottle from The Woodsman's hand and setting it on the floor.

"Woody," Bigby called out to the bald man. "I need to ask you some questions."

He was being as careful as he could with the drunken man. He was cautious as if Bigby wasn't the big bad wolf, but instead, it was the man who had a bright red nose that kept twitching with every sniffle that left it.

I could only watch on from the bars, not daring to step forward in case he were to do something or lash out at myself, but I stood on guard in case something were to happen.

Bigby slowly turned and crouched down so he could be at eye level with The Woodsman and watched him with honey brown eyes filled with melancholy.

"I need to ask you some questions Woody," he repeated. The bald man stayed silent, keeping his eyes down as the hand that had the bottle moved a bit as if the bottle was still in his large palm. "Why did you turn yourself in, Woody?"

"Itsmyfaul..."

"What was that?" Bigby asked.

Neither one of us could understand his drunken mumbling.

"It's my fault," he sniffed.

His voice was wavering with sadness, his body was starting to shake and tremble. He looked like a mourning man.

He was though.

"What do you mean? What happened? Do you know what happened to Wendy Darling and her brothers?"

"I shouldn't of went for her... It was a mistake." He was sniffling even more now, his words were thinning and something emerged from deep within his throat. "I shouldn't of went for her."

My heartstrings tugged a bit. Here was a mourning man in front of me, completely heartbroken and openly grieving for his love.

"Woody, what do you mean? What happened? Why did you turn yourself in?" Bigby questioned.

"She's dead, Wolf!" the bald man suddenly shouted, catching us both off guard. He was now standing up, looming over Bigby as if he was his disobedient dog. His fists were clenched in tight balls of rage while his teeth groaned from how tight his jaw coiled up."She's dead and there's," he took a long sniff as his shoulders started to unstiffen again, "there's nothing anyone can fucking... do." He slumped back down onto the cot and sat there for a minute. He was drunk, he had no control over what he was doing or what he was saying. "Wolf, promise me one thing," he groaned out.

Anyone could tell that sleep was yanking at his eyelids, the warm alcohol burning in his belly was a cause for this. He was nodding off, but he struggled to stay awake to tell Bigby something.

"What is it, Woody?"

"Promise me... you'll find the fucker that... did this to her," he mumbled.

"I promise Woody."

The Woodsman smiled for the first time ever since we came down here, showing alcohol sticking to his teeth and gums before he had finally passed out. His body hit the cot in a cold slump and his burly snores were quick to fill the silence in his cell.

Bigby slowly stood up and dusted his hands off on his pants before turning to me.

"Will he be okay?" I asked.

"Yeah, but he'll have a nasty hangover when he wakes up," Bigby grunted as he took the bottle he had placed on the floor earlier. He nodded towards the stairs. He didn't bother to actually close and lock the cell door. "Come on. You can crash in my apartment for the night. We'll get back to work in the morning."

Smiling softly, I followed him up the long, spiraling trail of creaky steps. I was actually glad to get out of that cold, moist basement and I couldn't help but worry about The Woodsman who had to stay down there.

* * *

The elevator hummed and roared with life before it started to twist its creaky cogs to raise the steel shell carrying Bigby and I upwards.

Bigby kept his hands in his pockets, one of his large hands was cupped over the carton of cigarettes in his pocket with his fingers twitching.

"If you wanna smoke, you can," I offered.

"Don't worry about it," he shrugged.

"If you need to smoke, I don't mind. We all breath in New York's pollution which is practically worse than cigarette smoke, so go ahead. I don't mind."

"It's not that I have an addiction - I don't though - it's just that with being The Big Bad Wolf and all, there comes certain factors that I don't enjoy. I smell everything and anything that passes by me: People's emotions, dried blood from cuts, obnoxious perfumes, everything. That's why I smoke Huff & Puffs, they block out most scents and it helps me."

"Then why don't you smoke one now?"

"I'm out," he smirked. He retracted his hand to show me an empty carton. "I have more in my apartment." The elevator gave off a loud ding and Bigby placed his hand on the opening door, allowing me to pass with a soft 'Thank you' to come from me. "This way."

He guided me down a small hallway and stopped in front of the door. Turning the brass knob, the wooden door creaked open to reveal Bigby's apartment.

Takeout boxes and ash-filled trays stuffed with cigarettes littered the desk while the old-timey phone was taken off of its receiver. The wallpaper in his apartment wasn't peeling as much, but the color looked as if it had been drained from the mass number of cigarettes Bigby must have smoked over the years. The wooden floorboards were creaky and slightly dirty from years of abuse and dirty shoes and... Were those hoof prints?

"Bigby! You home?" a voice called out.

"Do you have a roommate?" I asked as I looked back at Bigby.

"Not exactly," he grumbled.

"Well well well, so the rumors were true!" a voice called from below me. My face paled upon looking down to see a pig walking by and stopping in front of me.

"You're working with a mundy police officer."

"So what Colin?" Bigby grunted as he tossed his empty carton of cigarettes into a nearby overfilling trashcan.

"So what? Other fables are pissed! A mundy knows about us!" the pig exclaimed.

"A lot of mundies know about us Colin, like the New York police captains."

"I'm just sayin' Bigby, watch her. Make sure sweetcheeks here isn't caught in some sick trap," the pig snorted before moving to lay down next to the small tv.

"Um," I hummed as I pointed at the pig who was now fast asleep and snoring.

"It's a long story, but just know I couldn't blow his house down," Bigby stated. Bigby rolled his eyes and nodded in the direction that was behind me. "The bedroom's right there behind you. The bathroom is next door. If you need something, I'll be in my chair," Bigby stated before slumping onto the old blue padded chair.

Turning around and twisting the brass handle, I quickly stepped in and closed the door behind me.

One thing that caught me off guard was that there was no cigarette stench. The walls didn't cling to the scent, the floorboards didn't have ash stuck in between them and the furniture wasn't tainted with a pale yellow stain.

The room was actually clean and well taken care of, not a single ashtray or cigarette bud in sight. In fact, the room held a nice, homey scent that was most likely lavender and caramel.

The bed was a king with massive plush naval blue comforters and gray sheets neatly tucked and folded on top of the mattress. It looked like it hadn't been slept in for a long time.

The furniture around it could also say the same, dust piling on top in a thick layer with no sight or image of disturbance for a very long time. It's also a miracle how the wooden furniture hadn't accumulated cobwebs or unwanted visitors.

I decided to shy away from the old wooden furniture in fear of actually startling any unknow house guests awake.

Turning to the bed once more, I smiled softly before letting one of my hands brush against the bed's sheets. They were incredibly soft from not really being used.

My fingers fumbled with my jacket's buttons and zippers as I carefully took it off and laid it over the chair next to the bed before laying on top of the soft sheets and closing my eyes for the night.

* * *

[Buy me a Coffee](https://www.buymeacoffee.com/AJhuWmE80)


	7. Morning Cigarette

A soft moan escaped my lips as I slowly rolled my body over to my side. Rolling my shoulders backwards, my limbs had started their automatic trek to stretch forward. A small groan came from the back of my throat as I slowly peeled my eyes open.

I had completely forgotten I was in Bigby's bedroom, the slight shock of waking up in someone else's room had me paralyzed in confusion while my eyes rolled around the room. Everything looked so... nice in the morning if I were to compare Bigby's bedroom to the rest of his apartment. It looked clean and taken care of, but anyone could tell Bigby didn't care for his bedroom.

Slowly, my body had agreed with my mind to get up. A yawn escaped me as my bones had groaned to keep up with my movements and want to stand up. My eyes had landed on the chair where I had tossed my jacket over and slowly picked up the fabric and slid it over my shoulders.

'Why do I feel so groggy?' my mind asked my body.

I brought my hands up to my face and slowly rubbed and massaged my skin slowly while I wandered around the bedroom a bit more. Something had caught my ear, something on the floorboards below my feet. Looking down, I bit my lip in self-disappointment as I realized I had not removed my shoes before going to bed. My jacket, yes, but my shoes hadn't been toed off and slid under the bed frame.

I could only hope Bigby wouldn't mind that I accidentally did that.

As I looked back up to the room, I noticed that there were things I hadn't realized at night, the sun's warm morning rays revealed many things.

There were some old paintings strung up to the old walls that looked that they hadn't been dusted in dozens of years. One was of the paintings was of a large white wolf with bright eyes. With a small puff of air, the dust had flown away in a million directions to reveal a small golden label on the bottom of the birch wood frame. 'In Remembrance of: Winter Wolf' was engraved in a neat black cursive.

Did Bigby know this wolf?

I decided to not ask him about it in fear of bringing up some bad memories or thoughts.

There were other paintings of other wolves. All had birch wood frames with their own respected golden plates. All of the paintings were of different wolves ranging from white to brown to black to multi-colored ones. For some reason, their first names have been scratched out and smudged around, the only name that could be made out was the last name 'Wolf'. However, the last one had a first name, well, a nickname really.

'Bigby Wolf.'

The painting was of a gray wolf with haunting yellow eyes with bared sharp teeth.

Was this is family?

Was Winter his mother?

Shaking my head, I decided to not focus on this anymore and turned to the door and slowly turned the brass knob.

The living room was exactly the same as last night: Chinese takeout boxes and a mountain of cigarette buds, yellowed wallpaper and smoke-stained furniture. And the talking pig who was fast asleep on Bigby's chair, snorting and snoring his life away... if that was possible.

What was his name? Connor? Conrad? Oh, who cares? He's just a pig.

Shaking my head, I slowly crept on the squeaky floorboards toward the window where the sun had started to shine through. I slowly bent down to get a look at the view that was many stories below.

Cars and people were already bustling around, some were speeding along the sidewalks and the streets while the others took their time while going along on their merry ways. People chattered and people argued, heels clacked against concrete and tires screeched along the pavement.

This was the city life, after all, it was full of busy lives and carefree people while noise was sure to dominate the whole state. Noise was everywhere and it was in everything we do here.

And when I look at that, noise was happening right next to me. The snoring and snorting had turned to a choked cough until the pig had started to mumble in his sleep while he shuffled against the blue fabric. He looked... like a pig that was one thing I was sure of.

Rolling my eyes, I looked away from the pig once more to the bustling city below me.

The pig hummed in his sleep as his mumbles had become more audible and clear.

"This is a way to wake up in the morning," I heard the pig chuckle to himself.

My eyes widened as I quickly realized the position I was in: Butt out and in the pig's face while I was bent over slightly.

"You dirty pig," I snipped as I quickly spun around to glare at the animal.

"What? You were the one who decided to put your ass in front of my sleeping face," the pig groaned as he slowly slipped out of the chair.

The door next to the bedroom had opened and steam had quickly exited from the room.

"What's Colin doing this time?" Bigby's voice grumbled as he slowly exited from the bathroom.

My eyes widened a bit at the sight displayed before me.

Bigby was naked. or, most naked at least. He would be naked if it wasn't for the cigarette-stained "white" towel that was tightly wrapped around his... toned... tanned... waist... He was still dripping wet from the hot shower, water adding the perfect amount of shine to his rippling pectorals and his... perfect biceps.

Oh God, how long have I been staring at his handsome chest and muscles and his chiseled face slightly hidden by his drenched and dripping chocolate brown locks?

I shook my head slightly and crossed my arms over my chest before looking away. I could feel my cheeks starting to heat up a bit. I bit the inside of my bottom lip to keep me from saying something stupid as I slowly turned my gaze to the floorboards.

On the way down, I was able to catch a glimpse at the pig's smug face as he lifted a fatty brow at me before he slowly wandered off into the room on the right.

If looks could only kill, I could eat pork chops for a week. Oh, if only looks could really kill.

I looked back up to Bigby to see he wasn't looking in my direction at all, instead, he was rummaging around one of the desks by his front door. His broad and muscular back was turned to me. I could see steam curling up around every dip and cut into his brawny back.

My teeth tightened on my bottom lip the more I stared at Bigby's muscles.

"He's being..." I started, but I stopped.

Why am I so hypnotized with him and his body?

"A pig? Like usual," Bigby sighed as he closed the drawer he was rummaging in. He turned slightly to reveal a cigarette that was caught between his teeth while his meaty fingers raised to reveal a full lighter. Rolling his finger over the tin cog, a small flame had erupted from the lighter and lit his Huff & Puff cigarette. The flame and the burning tobacco illuminated his face, showing off his freshly shaven face. "I should've warned you about him last night before you went to bed."

"It's fine," I murmured as I looked away from him one more time.

"You need to take a shower? Feel free to use it.

"Thank you," I smiled softly before starting the small trek to the little room.

"I don't have any feminine products or women soaps or female shaving razors, so you'll have to survive with mine if you need it," he playfully warned.

"I think I can live without smelling like daisies for a few days, Sheriff," I rolled my eyes as I shuffled past his bulky form.

Upon turning into the small room, I had suddenly stopped.

Not only was this room cleaner than the bedroom, but it also looked newer and remodeled.

"Yeah, it looks different than it should be. It had to be remodeled thanks to busted pipes. Snow just had them redo my whole bathroom since it would take less time and money to replace the broken walls and floors and shit," he shrugged.

"Do you like it?" I asked as I took in the pale blue tiles scaling the walls.

"It's alright. I couldn't care less though. A bathroom's a bathroom. As long as I can do my essentials, why should I care?"

"Fair point." I turned my head to the shower in front of me and paused. How could something so simple also look so complexing? "How do you work your shower? If you don't mind me asking?" I piped up just as he was turning around to leave me to my shower.

"Just pull up on the small knob on the faucet and turn the handle to either hot or cold," he said before closing the door to leave me to my privacy.

I pulled up gently on the small knob while twisting the handle. Slowly, I peeled away my clothes while the water had slowly heated up. Carefully folding my clothes and placing them on top of the toilet lid, I stepped into the tub and tilted my head up while warm water had started its journey down my body.

A small moan escaped my mouth. I hadn't been able to use hot water - or warm water at the least - for about three weeks thanks to my apartment's leaky and busted pipes in the basement and walls. It was amazing to use warm water for once in nearly a month of showing and bathing in ice-cold water while a heater was blasting away in the background of my bathroom.

Oh, how I was grateful to Bigby for letting me do this.

I almost didn't want to move from my spot in the shower, I wanted to stand still while the warm shower water distracted me from all of the problems in the world. However, the dark blue bottles littering the corner of the tub had called for my attention. The same could go for the dry washcloth hung up on the faucet.

How did I not realize that when I first got in here?

Reaching down, my fingers wrapped around the short stout bottle and held it up to my face so I could see it through the steam.

The label had been washed away and scratched off from the abuse of the shower water or thanks to many more possibilities. There were now only white flecks of paint on the blue bottle.

Upon popping the lid to the side, a warm scent had filled my nostrils. It was sweet like chocolate but strong like mint, but it smelled as warm as caramel but as spicy as cinnamon. It was heavenly, it was divine.

Who knew a soap could smell like this?

Slowly picking up the washcloth, I spread just a bit of the soap onto the fabric.

Just rubbing it on my body made me feel warm and fuzzy inside. My body had started to warm up even more as soon as the soap was being rubbed into my skin with every stroke from the washcloth.

A small hum came from the back of my throat while my head bobbed back. Warm water had smacked against my throat as if it were nothing more but a warm rain shower.

The shower had started to draw out for a while and I had quickly lost track of time. Instead of actually showering and washing my body and actually cleaning my body, I had abandoned the soaps and the washcloths to peer around and snoop through whatever was in Bigby's shower.

There was a lot of razors, some with stuffed with small dark brown hairs while the rest were clean and free from any traces of use. There were empty shaving cans in here as well as full ones, all scented the same: Winter Mint. Perhaps he shaves in the shower for convenience, knocking out two birds with one stone. That's smart of him.

After deciding I was pruney enough, I quickly shut off the water and slid out of the tub and planted my feet on the worn out bathroom rug. It was still slightly damp from where Bigby had placed his big wet feet most likely an hour ago.

Looking down at my feet, I couldn't help but choke up a laugh at them. There were still two big footprints etched into the rug that I had failed to realize before upon entering the bathroom. My laugh only grew longer the more I stared down at my feet and the footprints. His feet were just so much larger than mine, it was as cute and adorable as it was funny.

I peered around the steamy room for a towel only to find two already folded on the sink for me to use.

I dabbed the soft material across my body, being careful not to knock over anything in his small bathroom while doing so as I backed up to prop my leg up on the toilet. The towels looked and felt new as if he had just bought them.

A thought had suddenly struck through me.

Did he know I was coming to help him investigate? To stay over at his apartment? It explains why he was apologizing for the mess and the roommate. Maybe he bought these new towels since his other probably reek of cigarette smoke and he didn't want to make a bad impression?

It was sweet of him if he did do that just for me.

After wrapping one of the fluffy towels around my chest just above my breasts, I leaned over so I could grab my hair and twist it into the last towel so it could placed on top of my head.

My hand gripped the handle, but I froze in place as another thought had started to creep up into the back of my mind.

What if Bigby is out there and he sees me? Will it be awkward or will he be a gentleman and apologize while turning away?

Oh my god, what if Colin was out there?!

Slowly, I turned the knob and winced as the door's hinges groaned and squeaked upon the motion. I cracked the door open just enough to stick my head out to see.

Nobody in the living room and nobody in the kitchen. Bigby and Colin must have left! I'm in the clear!

Quickly, I snatched up my clothes from the toilet seat before bolting out of the door.

Sure the bedroom was right next to the bathroom, but nobody could ever be too sure about these things, right?

My slightly wet feet smacked against the hardwood planks as I quickly rounded the short distance between the two rooms. I fumbled around with the closed door's handle, fumbling around with the knob while trying to work quickly so nobody could see me dripping wet. Cursing to myself silently everytime my slippery hands messed up with the lock, I had started to mentally scold myself for taking too long.

The door handle finally turned after a while and I quickly started forward once again, pushing my hands out to force the door to open just a bit quicker than my legs would do.

I hadn't even looked in front of me, instead, my head was turned backwards so I could keep a lookout just in case Colin or Bigby magically appears behind me and sees me in just two towels.

I should've been looking forward because then I wouldn't have rammed right into someone.

A small shriek escaped from my throat as my hands had instinctively shot out to stop myself from falling into whoever I accidentally rammed into. My clothes went flying into the air and scattered across the floor.

Two firm, strong and very large hands had grabbed a hold of my waist and kept me hoisted in the air so I wouldn't collapse on top of them. The person let out a small groan as soon as their back smacked against the floor.

My hands smacked against the wooden floorboards as my body came to a full stop. I could feel their body heat radiate off of them in waves, it felt... somewhat... familiar.

Slowly opening my eyes, I let out another choked shriek as I tried to back away from him.

Bigby was underneath me, and he was looking away from me. His face was a bright red and his eyes were wide, his lips were pressed together into a thin line.

'What was wrong with him?' my mind wondered.

A small breeze erupted from my stomach and grazed over my breasts.

My heart sank and my stomach had instantly twisted into a thousand knots.

My eyes darted down to my chest.

Oh, how it felt like my entire world had collapsed right then and right there.

Upon falling down and upon landing, the towel that was wrapped around my chest had become loose and while falling, Bigby's hands must have helped tug it off and out of place.

Forget my cheeks heating up, my whole face and neck were burning! It felt like I was on fire.

"I'm so sorry!" we both said at the same time as we both shot straight up.

I yanked the towel back on while Bigby quickly exited the room and made sure to close the door behind him.

As I was quickly dressing, the phone in the living room had started to go off. Bigby had answered it on the first ring.

"Wolf's residence," he managed to choke out.

* * *

[Buy me a Coffee](https://www.buymeacoffee.com/AJhuWmE80)


	8. Where The Devil Don't Go

Slowly, I pushed the door open to see Bigby picking up files and papers left and right before shoving them into a box labeled "Darling Case" that was placed next to his chair. The box had started to fill up quickly as Bigby had started to stuff files and folders into corners of the box and between other files.

Another cigarette was lit and clamped between his teeth as smoke curled around and circled around his neck and face. There was the occasional red glow from in between the embers of the cigarette as well as a small cough from Bigby every now and again while he shuffled around papers and folders and files.

The box was now overfilled, some files and folders threatened to spill over and off of the box but they stayed in their given places. It was stuffed full of paper and cardboard and a few pens and permanent markers.

But I also noticed something with Bigby: His cheeks still held a little bit of pink to them, even after five minutes of not seeing each other.

 

* * *

 

 

He stopped stuffing stuff into the small cardboard box and stared at my feet. Slowly, he trailed his gaze up my legs and eventually made it to my face. He quickly stood up and took his cigarette out from between his teeth.

"Hey," he murmured as he looked down at me.

"Hi," I smiled back.

"I... uh, I'm sorry about all of that," he motioned to the bedroom door.

"Don't worry about it. I should've knocked before barging in."

"I should've just grabbed a clean shirt and changed in the kitchen, I didn't mean for you to fall on me and for your towel to... you know..."

"Don't worry about it. It was an accident and I forgive you."

"Don't say you forgive me just so I shut up about it."

"I would never say that, Sheriff. I really do forgive you for this accident. And I am sorry for forgetting to take my shoes off before going to bed."

Bigby cocked his head to the side and looked down at me while raising a brow.

"What?"

"I forgot to take my shoes off before going to bed."

Bigby clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. He turned his head back to the box as a small smirk crept up upon his lips.

"How dare you. The audacity," he fake gasped before he bent over to pick up the box.

"Oh, hush. Now, what are you doing to the Darling case?"

"Snow called. I'm bringing what files and evidence I have to her so she can look everything over. her and Bufkin are gonna take a second look to help me match the evidence while we go out to get more evidence."

"More evidence?"

"Snow told me about Jack calling in a tip about Jersey."

"Jack? Jersey?"

"Jack and the Beanstalk and The Jersey Devil. Jack is nothing but a slimy weasel, but if he has dirt on Jersey, then the only thing I can do is trust him this one fucking time."

Bigby quickly moved over to the front door and tossed it open.

"Wait, the actual Jersey Devil? I thought-"

"Oh, he's real alright," Bigby cut me off.

"And dangerous, I'm guessing?"

"You got it, officer."

"And what are you doing right now?"

"I'm gonna bring these files to Snow quickly and we'll head out. Just finish up in here, because I have a feeling we'll be out for awhile," he ordered as he closed the door with his foot.

Peering around the now empty apartment, I bit the inside of my lip before backing away from the door a bit.

What could I do?

Should I head downstairs and leave a note on his door?

No, that's a bad idea. What if someone comes and breaks in? Like those two twins from the Alice and Wonderland fairy tale. What did Bigby call them again? The Tweedles?

It sounded about right.

A small sigh left my nose as my shoulders slouched. I simply stood there, not knowing what to do.

Apparently, time had melted away and Bigby had opened the door. His eyebrows were cocked in confusion.

"You didn't move? At all?" he asked cautiously as he stepped out of the way so I could walk out.

"Nope. I figured you would get mad if I did leave your apartment," I smiled.

"Smart woman. Now come on, we need to get there before Jersey locks up and crawls away to Gods knows where his slimy ass can fit in," Bigby motioned to the opening elevator.

"Right behind you, sheriff," I smiled as I slowly jogged behind him.

 

* * *

 

 

We both stood in front of the small business for at least a good two to three minutes in complete silence. Neither one of us had moved a single inch. Our eyes were glued to the brick building in front of the two of us, our eyes pinned to the dusty glass to watch as a blond man with a ponytail and a denim vest was trying to bride the balding redheaded man to possibly lower the price of the item he was buying. He was not getting anywhere. Instead, the balding man had crossed his lanky freckled arms and grit his teeth while shaking his head and growled something out to the blond man in front of him.

"Should we go in?" I broke the silence.

"I'd wait another minute or two. Figures might as well let Jersey throw a punch or two at Jack before I should intervene," Bigby shrugged.

"Is he that annoying?"

"He's worse than annoying. He's one of the worse types of people. Trust me, if you've been sheriff of a town and you had to deal with him, you would want someone else to throw a punch at him for you."

"How long have you been doing this?"

"About two hundred years?" he questioned himself.

"Two hundred?!" My jaw hung open and my eyes were wide open. "How old are you, then?"

Bigby laughed a bit before reaching into his pocket to retrieve another cigarette from the Huff n' Puff carton.

"If I'm being honest, I lost track a while ago. Probably over four hundred years? I'll have to find out when we get back to the Business Office."

There was a crash inside of the dink pawn shop followed by two men shouting and screaming at each other. More crashes and clatters followed briefly.

"Now do we go in?"

"Yep. Leave the fighting, if there is any, to me. Don't intervene, it'll get ugly," Bigby simply said as he walked in front of me with a cloud of smoke trailing behind him.

The door chimed as soon as it had opened and Bigby held it open for me.

My jaw slackened upon seeing the two men wrestling around, smashing each other around the small room. They were knocking each other into glass showcases filled with trinkets from fairy tales and the middle ages. They knocked each other into stands of armor and old weapons. They each tossed each other around the room as if they were nothing but toys, only to get back up and resume their fight.

The redhead balled his hand and launched it out at the blond man, smacking it into his already bloody nose as a paralyzing crack filled the air.

"Hey, Hey!" Bigby snapped as he pinned the redhead to the wall.

"Fuck!" the blond man yelped as he clutched his now gushing nose. Blood was leaking through his fingers and spilling to the already dirty and unkept floor. "You fucker!"

I dug my hands into my pockets, searching around until I felt a small package of tissues stuffed deep into my back pocket. Pulling a few out, I slowly stepped over to the blond man and held them out gently.

"Listen, Jersey," Bigby warned as the redhead man started to thrash in Bigby's hold, attempting to wiggle himself out of the sheriff's grip, "I'm not gonna give you a second warning. Stop thrashing around and I'll go easy on you. We'll simply question the two of you and leave."

The blond hesitated in front of me, his hand twitching in the air. His baby blue eyes stared directly at my hand that was filled with the pillowy clean tissues.

"Go on," I murmured as I motioned the tissues forward. "Take them. They're for you."

"They're not laced with something, are they?" he questioned as he started to stand up to his full height.

He towered over me by at least a good foot.

He could almost compare to Bigby's height... almost.

"No. I'm a police officer for Manhattan. I would never do such a thing to one of the citizens of my borough. Here, take them. I wouldn't want you to bleed out everywhere and pass out."

He slowly stretched his hand out to take the bundle of tissues from my hands. He brought them up to his already bruising nose and let out a breathy chuckle.

"Fables don't go down easy," he chuckled as he rolled one of his shoulders. "We could bleed out for days and still go on. Hell, we can go around with an ax in the back of our heads while we shop around. We're hard to kill."

"Jersey! Stop resisting!" Bigby roared as a short growl cut through the silence.

Upon turning my head, Bigby was thrown in my direction and collided with the wall next to me.

"Get out you fucking dog!" Jersey snapped as his hands smacked against one of the glass showcases. "And take your fucking owner with you! And that blond weasel too!"

I slid the handcuffs out from my back pocket and exhaled quickly through my nose.

"Mister Jersey, I am placing you under arrest for assaulting a police officer. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law," I ordered as I marched up to the angry redhead.  
"And who the fuck do you think you are, girly?" he sneered as he lowered himself to look me in the eye.

"I am Officer (Y/n) (L/n) of the Manhattan Police Force, that is who I am."

"Hey, girly," the blond called from behind me. Turning my head, I saw Bigby struggling to get up while the blond man was looking at me in slight horror. "Get out of here while you still can. Don't try to fight him."

"Fight him? I'm doing my job," I scoffed.

A bright green light flashed in front of me while a spine-chilling noise came from where the redheaded man once stood. The collar of my shirt had been yanked back, causing me to tumble back into a pair of strong arms that had been wrapped around me.

"Let me go!" I shouted as I pressed the palms of my hands to the man's chest.

An ear piercing shriek echoed through the small pawn shop. My head slowly turned to look behind me only to have my jaw drop in horror.

What was that thing that stood in Jersey's place?

That was the Jersey Devil?!

It had a naked deer skull with two straps of muscle keeping his head on his lanky gray body. The straps had gone up to his jaw and were wrapped against a few sharp teeth. He had no eyes, no tongue, no ears. Instead, he had two rows of sharp jagged teeth, rigged antlers and two large holes where his eyes should be. His body was long and lanky with large animal-like feet and razor-like fingers. The only thing he had kept from his human form was his sagging stomach.

"You wanna be let go now?" the blond asked while backing towards the entrance.

Just as he started to fumble with the slightly cracked open door with his boot, the devil in front of us let out another ear piercing shriek.

I could only watch on in horror as it carelessly pushed aside the heavy showcase to the side of it. Glass and the various small statues and knickknacks shattered to the ground and scattered everywhere.

The devil slowly stomped forward towards up, pinning us to the wall in fear.

Slowly, he leaned down so he was right in my face.

"You shoulda walked outta here when you had the chance," he growled out.

His voice was completely different, lower with a bit of snarl put into every word he spoke.

Slowly, yet forcefully, the devil had tossed an old coat rack out of his path to get to us faster, a vicious snarl rumbling through his throat.

The blond man had pushed me in front of him just a bit while he backed away, keeping me in place.

Was he literally pushing me forward to this thing?! While he was backing away?Possibly out of the fucking doors?!

"What are you doing?" I snapped at him.

"You're the one that pissed him off!"

"Me?! You're the one he was fighting before we came in!"

"But you're the one that made him turn."

"I gave you tissues!"

The devil gave out another vibrating shriek. The door finally opened from the man finally pushing on it enough, cold air blasting the back of our heads and tossing our hair forward.

The man had quickly let go of me, turned around, and booked it out the front door, leaving me to the Jersey Devil.

"What are you going to do, meter maid?" the devil snipped as he was now in front of me. "Are you going to cry for your police dog? Your little shepherd?" he seemed to laugh.

Two large hairy hands reached up and grabbed ahold of his antlers, yanking his skull back and dragging the devil down.

"She's a police officer," a dark voice growled, "not a meter maid!"

The devil screeched and shrieked while it shifted on its hind legs, his claws scraping against the hardwood planks. The hands applied more pressure, bringing the devil down and making his back arch even more until a soft cracking noise echoed from the devil's skull.

Slowly, the devil's back had so far that a head was poking out.

Dark chocolate hair, sunkissed skin, bushy brown eyebrows. It was Bigby!

A wave of relief washed over me.

But the more the devil arched back and shrieked, the more of Bigby was revealed.

My eyes widened upon seeing glowing yellow eyes surrounded by dark purple bags. His teeth were barred and sharp and jagged, his nose curved inwards a bit while his cheekbones were more prominent. His stubble was now gone, thick hair had sprouted from the sides of his jaw.

And his hands... his fingers, they had long black claws jutting from his cuticles and he was even hairier than usual.

The devil had collapsed to the ground, gasping and screeching with every breath it took while Bigby stood there watching the devil sprawl out.

"You gonna answer our questions now? Or do I have to actually break your antlers to get answers out of you?" Bigby snapped.

"Fuck you Wolf, and your meter maid too," the devil snipped as it had rolled over to only rise back up to his own feet within a matter of seconds.

"I told you the first time," Bigby snarled as he balled up his fist with his claws sinking into his skin, "she's not a meter maid!"

The devil shrieked out once more and charged forward, knocking down showcases, racks of swords and daggers and even two armor stands with the own weight of his mighty stomping as he charged towards Bigby antlers first.

Bigby's meaty hands managed to grab a hold of Jersey's antlers once more and tried to push the devil back, but he quickly found himself being rammed right into the wall behind him. Bigby let out a choked groan before a growl ripped through his throat. A low snarl came from both of them while Bigby's rang out louder than the devil's own snarl.

He eyed me from the corner of his eyes and did his best to press his lips together while his eyebrows scrunched together. His eyes held sorrow and pain.

I couldn't help but smile back at him before biting my bottom lip.

Bigby had been dragged back into the moment when the devil had forced himself closer to the wall. His antlers started to sink into Bigby's chest and stomach.

The wolf gave out a loud roar of agony as his hands did their best to grip onto the antlers sinking even deeper into his body so he could push them out.

The devil shrieked once more, his hands latching onto Bigby's arms and pinned them against the wall.

Bigby slowly looked towards me and looked me in the eye. His neon yellow orbs sent shivers down my spine. He slowly shook his head as his eyes twitched a bit as if he was apologetic.

I watched on as his pupils proceeded to become a thin line in the sea of molten gold while his dark brown hair that had grown upon his jaw had started to slowly turn an ashy gray while his muscles just seemed to grow in thickness.

A deep roar came from Bigby as he managed to somehow free his arms from the devil's grasp to grab a hold of his horns and snap them off from the devil's skull. Bigby quickly reeled his leg back before letting it shoot out to smack against the devil's skull.

Bigby felt around his chest with twitching hands, gripped onto the two jet black antlers and jerked them out of his skin and allowing them to clatter to the hardwood ground.

The devil's body slammed against the floor while Bigby fell to his knees and soon his hands smacked against the floor to catch himself from falling flat on his face. He did his best to catch his breath.

I wanted to go up to him to help him stand up so we could get out of here, but I had stopped in my tracks.

The doors behind me kicked open, the door nearly smacking me in the back of my head while the cold air had blasted my hair forward. Three sets of footsteps sounded out from behind me: Two pairs of heavy ones and one lighter pair.

But a familiar scent had graced my nose: Hookah. It reminded me once more of the caterpillar from Alice in Wonderland.

My eyes widened once more at realization hit me, just like something had been pressed into my back and dug deeper into my skin.

"Hello there officer mundy," a grumbly voice snickered.

"Here to charge us with assault again?" another laughed.

'Fucking Tweedles,' my mind cursed.

* * *

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	9. Bloodstains & Bruises

"Aren't you going to turn around, hun?" a feminine voice chirped right behind me. "It's very rude if you don't look at the person speaking. Didn't your mother raise you right?"

Turning my head slowly, I caught sight of the two sweaty greaseballs tweedles with a lanky woman with short black and red hair. Freckles had been splashed across her face while her honey brown eyes held a wicked emotion. Her thin lips held no color while it had been twisted into an offputting smile. Her teeth were long and an off-white, her gums were a deep red.

"Who are you?" I stated, trying my hardest to keep a straight face.

"Mundy over here never heard of me," the woman gasped while grasping her face. "Perhaps the old little tale of going into a dark bathroom and saying my name three times will help you ring some bells, officer," she calmly muttered while her arms slowly lowered.

This is Bloody Mary?

My eyes widened a bit while looking at her standing right behind the two tweedles.

She shoved the two away suddenly, the men stumbling around on their stout legs while trying to stop.

Unintentionally, I took a single step back and away from the three.

"Oh?" she stopped moving, her eyes widening. "Am I scaring the little mundy?" She gasped, clutching the sides of her jaw while she acted in shock. "Do you know who I am now?" I couldn't speak, but somehow, my head had bobbed up and down while I had somehow managed to swallow the lump in my throat. "Oh, you're scared. I can feel it," she murmured to me before giggling.

"Get... away from... her," a choked voice rang out behind me.

My breath hitched in my throat as my head shot around.

Bigby was on his side, his fingernails digging into the wooden floorboards while he was glaring at the four of us. His teeth were bared and his eyes were glowing gold. The hair refused to shrink away and retract into his skin. He was panting like a wild animal, growls and snarls emerging from behind his throat.

"Bigby," I found myself whispering as my legs carried me towards him. My hands gripped his shoulders while my knees dug into his back, pushing him back down to the ground so he wouldn't move. "Stay down, you're hurt," I murmured to him while eyeing the multiple holes in his once crisp white button up.

Blood had practically drenched the bottom half of his shirt and half of his tie was missing.

"Oh sweetie, you really don't know a single thing about your little police dog, do you?" Mary cooed as her boots smacked carelessly against the floor. "Sure, he's not a pure werewolf, but he's close enough if you're looking for a pedigree. He'll be up and ready to fight in no time."

Bigby snarled once more, his claws dragging back curls and spirals of dirty wood to pile around his roughened hands. He felt as if he was shaking with rage while I held him to the floor as careful as I could. His sickly yellow eyes rolled to meet mine, his jaw groaning as it somehow tightened even more.

"Go," he grunted. "Don't look back."

"I'm not leaving my boss behind."

"How cute, really. This is adorable," Mary groaned while rolling her eyes. Our eyes shot towards her only for the both of us to see her loading in shining bullets one after another into the barrel with a sickening slow pace. Flicking the barrel back and spinning it, the six-shooter weighed her hand down and was soon aimed in our direction by a lazy hand. "I must say though, it's too bad that wolf got to you before I could, mundy," she winked.

Her finger tightened on the trigger.

I clenched my eyes closed and turned my head to the side a bit.

There was a gunshot.

My hands were soon holding nothing, holding no one to the ground nor holding no ruined dirty white fabric. Instead, they hovered where Bigby once laid.

My eyes slowly crept open, peering over to Mary only to see Bigby standing there. One of his meaty hands was wrapped around the nose of the six-shooter while his other was wrapped around her thin neck.

The gray fur that had started up not even ten minutes ago was now rapidly spreading across his body which was snapping apart while his clothes tore at the seams. A snarl ripped through his throat, deeper and more savage than before as he hauled her up into the air.

Mary only cackled while wrapping her unoccupied thin hand around Bigby's wrist.

Thick muscle had finally tore apart his shirt while his pant legs were popping open one chunk at a time, stopping in the middle of his thighs. His body had warped into this hulking form, his shoes had popped off to reveal gray furry feet with black claws ripping into the floors. His limbs had become lanky, his hands were now huge.

The gun had been removed from her hand, Bigby dropped it on the ground and tossed her back to the two overweight men who simply stood there in fear.

"Great to know you two are worth keeping alive," Mary scoffed as she simply got up as if nothing had happened.

The two men quickly snapped out of their states of fears and fiddled with the loaded shotguns in their hands, fumbling to raise and aim at the werewolf standing there snarling and ready to pounce.

A roar escaped Bigby for a split second until the two shotguns had started firing.

Blood flew and splattered against the floor, some even hitting my face.

Another roar escaped Bigby as he shifted backwards, his feet slamming into the floor while they kept unloading their shotguns. He kept moving backwards, they kept moving forward while more explosions came from their shotguns. Mary was gone from the picture within the blink of an eye, she was nowhere inside of the dinky pawn shop, leaving just the four of us plus one unconscious jersey devil.

Their attacks had gone as long as their ammunition had allowed them, popping the empty shells out while trying to quickly retrieve more from their pockets.

Bigby had turned my way just a bit as he wobbled around. There were massive bloody holes littering his chest, blood coating and matting his gray fur into dark red clumps. Something had been moving inside of the holes before small objects slipped out and clattered to the floor.

Was his body really pushing that out?

A deep growl managed to slide out from between his fangs. His eyes met mine for a split second, his shoulders stiffened and his pupils shrank in size. His fingers were twitching around while his eyes tried to search mine. A small growl rang out from the back of his throat while he seemed to shrink down a bit in size as if he had suddenly become afraid or....

Did he think I was afraid of him?

A loud gunshot fired out behind me and blood spewed from Bigby's stomach. Bigby let out this deep whimper, a small roar snapped out of him as his eyes widened. Instead of having the bullet worm it's way out, the blood only bloomed, starting to gush out from the singular bullet hole in his abdomen.

But then, he fell down and had instinctively curled in on himself.

"Bigby!" I cried out.

I scrambled to my hands and knees only to fall down to my knees after only sprinting five feet in front of me. Tears were pricking my eyes as my fingers carded into the thick gray fur of his shoulders and biceps. The werewolf in front of me was panting and whining in pain, his body twitching and jerking around as his eyes tried to peel open just a bit.

Glowing gold poked out from his gray eyelids while his iris curved towards me with his pupils dilating. I could see my reflection in his eyes.

A small groan of pain blossomed from his throat as his eyes fluttered closed.

"Bigby," I whimpered as my fingers curled around the fur already in my grip.

"What a shock, really. You would think silver would only work on a pure werewolf," Mary called out from behind me. She slowly walked past me, making sure to spare Bigby a glance. Her lips curled up into a disgusting smile, showing off her off-white teeth that were too straight to look normal. "You learn something new every day." She walked towards the door and trailed behind the two men who took the liberty to move before her, holding the doors open so Mary could get through. "See you around, Wolf," she laughed before the doors closed.

I cursed under my breath and looked down at Bigby again to see he was now struggling to breathe.

"Fuck," I cursed once more as I sat up an on my heels. "What do I do? I've never worked with werewolves before!" I whimpered to myself as my fingers knotted around in Bigby's thick fur. "Who do I call? What do I do?"

The door opened once more and the blond man crept in once more, sticking his head in and looking around.

"Hey, is the fight over?" he called out as he slowly crept inside. He opened the door and crept inside, coming to a halt as soon as he saw up on the floor and blood surrounding Bigby. "What the fuck happened?" He eyed the jersey devil unconscious on the other side of the room. "What happened to Jersey?"

"Help me with him," I snapped.

"Okay okay! What are you, on your period?" he rolled his eyes while reaching over for the old-timey phone.

"Come over here and say that to my face," I growled.

"Not when Bigby's like that, I'm not."

* * *

 

Blood slowly seeped into my mouth, the awful taste of iron pooling up underneath my tongue. My teeth were clamped down on my bottom lip in worry.

Bigby laid there, his head rolled back and falling onto the arch of his chair, his body had been slumped on while blood had stained the once blue cushions and fabric.

He was normal now, tanned skin replacing the gray fur, his thick body hair was still caked in blood. I held onto a bowl of clean water with a clean rag... I may need a bigger rag or maybe a towel to clean off the blood coating his body.

Jack had left as soon as some other man came into the apartment with a big black bag clutched in his aged hand. He was tall and lanky with graying hair. He simply smiled at me before moving to sit on his knees in front of Bigby.

He hasn't said anything since coming in here.

Bigby was knocked out, however, groans and whines of pain rumbled out of his while the man - I'm assuming is a doctor for these people - carefully took a pair of tweezers and started prodding the bullet hole that had yet to heal.

I wanted to watch, to be there for him, be there for Bigby if the doctor had asked me to do something for him.

But I found myself wanting to back up into the bedroom and wait there. It hurt to look at Bigby laying there... Looking at his paling skin, losing his hearty tan and showing off the dark bags rimming his eyes and making him look deathly ill. It pulled at my heart and tied my stomach into knots.

The doctor pulled away from Bigby while holding the tweezers out. A groan of relief left Bigby as his hands gripped onto the armrests while his nails dug into the fabric before pulling his fingers back, leaving open cuts in the thick cotton fabric.

The tweezers shined, blood coating a shining silver bullet that had been lodged deep into Bigby's abdomen.

The doctor had slipped the bullet into a small plastic bag.

He turned his head to me.

"I can clean him up. You must still be in shock from the recent event from an hour ago. Sit down, please, I would hate for you too to fall under my care," the doctor said while reaching for the bowl.

"I..." I stopped and swallowed. I handed him the bowl of water and the rag. "Alright."

I sank down to the desk behind me, slipping into the chair that sat there gathering dust.

Colin came from the kitchen, groaning a bit under his breath while he stopped. His eyes widened as he saw Bigby.

"Who the fuck did you piss off?" he asked.

"Not now, Colin," the doctor simply said while dabbing away dried blood.

Colin rolled his eyes before spotting me, my leg bouncing and my lip trying to quiver.

"'Ey," he started as he trotted up to me. "He'll pull through. It's Bigby, after all." Colin sank to the floor next to the chair where I sat. "He's been put through the wringer more times than I can count. Before and after us coming here."

"He won't be able to go through the wringer as much now if he keeps getting shot with silver bullets," the doctor piped up. He placed the water down on the ground next to him. He cleared his throat and reached into the black bag once more, he took a hold of a large roll of bandages and pulled it out of the bag. "Do you mind holding him up a bit? Or at least lean him forward so I may patch him up?" he asked me.

I didn't speak, only standing up and walking over to a still unconscious Bigby and slid my hands under his biceps. Giving them a gentle squeeze, I pulled Bigby forward just enough for the doctor to wrap the bandages around his abdomen while also patching up cuts and scratches on his chest and arms.

I slowly set Bigby back onto the chair and stood up to only have a card handed to me.

"Call me if Bigby ever gets in another scrap," he simply said. taking the business card, it was just his name and number. Swineheart, followed by a series of numbers. "Goodbye, Officer," he nodded before walking out the front door.

My head turned to Bigby, and before I knew it, I rose to my feet and had paced until I was in front of him.

At least he was looking better...

But geez, does he reek of death.

Maybe I should've put soap or lemon juice into that water... Maybe not the lemon juice...

My hand rose to his bruised face and gently brushed a strand of hair out of the way of his eye when it opened. A bright yellow eye bore into my eyes while his jaw fell open a bit, revealing slightly sharp teeth. We hadn't realized it, but Bigby's hand had shot up and grabbed a hold of my wrist while his claws had poked my skin.

He was panting and shaking a bit as he started to realize that it was me.

Slowly, his hand detached from my wrist and retreated to the armrest it had abandoned.

"Geez Bigs," Colin piped up while forcing himself up, "you smell awful. Take a shower."

The pig snorted and wandered off.

"I'm sorry..." Bigby grumbled out as he looked like he was bracing himself.

"It's okay, Bigby," I murmured.

"It's not," he groaned as he failed to move. I placed my hands under his biceps once more and helped him stand up. His large, bare feet smacked against the floor while his tattered pants hung loosely on his waist. "I shouldn't have done that earlier," he managed to say without panting. He was placing all of his weight on me as he limped forward. "I shouldn't have turned in front of you."

"Bigby."

The knob turned in my hand and Bigby stumbled in before managing to sit down on the toilet.

"I put you in danger," he grunted out.

"I'm a police officer too, Bigby." I turned the knob to the shower on, allowing the water to warm up. "I'm risking my life every day I walk into work because I want Manhattan to be safe. Fabletown is a part of Manhattan, Bigby. It may be your job as sheriff to protect them, but it's my job as an officer to help you."

He stayed silent, not opening his mouth.

Steam clouded the small bathroom quickly.

I could still see those haunting yellow orbs cutting through the steam with ease.

His hand gripped onto the sink and pushed himself up slowly, doing his best to steady himself.

Taking a shaky step forward, I stepped back only to find myself against the tiled wall.

His hands reached out shakily and planted themselves on opposite sides of my head while his body came closer to mine.

A feeling of arousal had spiked in my chest as Bigby neared, his body heat cutting through the warm steam while a growl cut through the sound of the running shower.

My hands went to his waist and locked them in place so I could help support him.

He leaned down, moving his face so it was just an inch away from my neck. I could feel his hot breath blast against my throat.

I knew he knew what I was feeling.

Another low growl rumbled from deep within his chest.

He was about to lean down more, but then there was a sharp knock that had caught us both off guard.

* * *

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	10. Case Swap

One month has passed.

One month that both seemed to pass by quickly but also drag on to what felt like forever.

The Darling case had started to turn as cold as the victim's corpses not long after the encounter with Mary and the Tweedles. Even Bigby's suspicion with the maid to the Darling family had run cold when she ended up murdered the same way Wendy, John, and Michael had been murdered, left with the same evidence as the original three but now left us with a thinning suspect list.

Our eyes had become strained from staring at papers and maps and pictures for hours on end. It was agonizing at times when our eyes would start to throb and burn from looking over evidence constantly.

It all just seemed to be jumbled, like we had actually hit the end.

Snow had even mentioned that it would be best if we had just marked it off as a cold case if nothing came up a week after she mentioned it.

Now, here we were, packing all of the evidence into cardboard boxes while Bigby had tried to look through it all one last time. Bufkin was supposed to help me file the rest of the papers into their respected folders, but he just sat on the desk drunk and staring into a book of fables, right at Wendy's face where big red letters covered most of it.

Deceased.

That word had stuck to the insides of my eyelids.

* * *

It was something so simple but meant so much when it came to a cold case.

Deceased was a word of mystery.

Deceased was a word of unknowing.

Deceased was a word of failure to an officer of law enforcement.

Bufkin hiccuped and turned the page of the book.

"What about Tinkerbell?" he groaned as he rubbed his pitch black eyes. He chuckled under his breath. "Wouldn't it be funny to see that little fairy holding a knife?"

"Tinkerbell and the rest of those fairies never leave the witches on the thirteenth floor," Bigby piped up while opening up the file I had just put into a new box. He sighed and shut the folder before slipping it back into the box. "And besides Bufkin, what would her motive be? She never had anything against the Darling family. It wouldn't make sense." Bigby sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I was really hoping my Liza hunch would work out."

"Every officer and sergeant and sheriff wants their hunches to work," I piped up while leaning back in the uncomfortable leather chair. The hide groaned as I shifted my weight in it. My rear had made its mark in it one month ago when I had received the empty desk that was in the Business Office in the back with the piles of books stacked a mile high, hidden behind old treasures and heirlooms and paintings and statues. It was uncomfortable, but I made do. "It's only natural that your hunch can be wrong from time to time. Mine are sometimes wrong, the same can go to my captain. This is only natural, Bigby."

"My hunches never let me down," Bigby grumbled as he fished out his classic carton of Huff n' Puff cigarettes. Popping one out of the box with a single hit to the bottom of the carton, he clamped it down between his teeth and dragged it out before lighting it quickly with his metal-plated lighter. "I've relied on them ever since I became sheriff when we came here all that time ago. Rose Red's apparent murder, Ms. Muffet's break-in, The Muffin Man murder, every single case that's been placed on my desk, my hunches helped me solve them."

"Then this was long overdue, Bigby. You can't rely on your hunches forever on every case you get. You can't save everyone, Bigby."

Bigby didn't like that answer. His eyes snapped up from the lighter that had a flickering flame burn the edge of his cigarette. His hands stilled for a second as he seemed to glare in my direction.

Sensing tension, Bufkin seemed to perk up.

"Well, it is truly a shame that this case has," a hiccup interrupted the flying green monkey, "turned cold." The monkey scrambled to pick up the half-empty bottle of wine with his hands and the thick book filled to the brim with fables with his feet. "Sorry again this had to happen, but I wish you luck on your next cases!"

Bufkin quickly hopped off the desk and flapped his feathery wings, carrying him away from this area to the golden cage on the opposite side of the room.

I could feel it settling deep within my stomach: I said something I shouldn't have said. I messed up, and I may have messed up big time. I could feel it linger deep within my stomach like a big lead ball had sunk to the pits of my stomach, turning icy cold quickly. My throat tightened as I saw Bigby's large hands slowly retract, his thumb rolling off the cog and letting the small fire go out. The orange glowing flame may have gone out, but his eyes still held that haunting yellow glow in his normally warm amber eyes.

His hands fell to his sides while his eyes didn't move at all. The embers inside of the cigarette released clouds of smoke that his yellow eyes peered through and shined bright.

He finally moved, lifting thick fingers up to his cigarette to move it out of his mouth to let the smoke that filled the cavity out.

Why did this bother him so much? What did I trigger inside of him? Inside of his mind?

"I can fucking try," growled out. "And I'll die to try to protect the citizens of Fabletown. That is my job."

"Bigby," I started out.

"No," he cut me off. "I can try. I will do it. I'm protecting everyone in this fucking town, and I don't need an officer from the Manhattan district to tell me what to do or how to do my job as sheriff; A job you haven't reached yet."

My throat had been coiled tight, my eyes burned from not blinking, my lip quiver as my mind had started to race a million miles a minute while trying to come up with words to speak.

Bigby's lips were pulled back into a snarl while cigarette smoke still slowly seeped from the gaps between Bigby's sharp teeth. His eyebrows were twitching in anger while his body had seemed to stiffen with his shoulders squared and hands balled into tight, shaking fists. The cigarette was being crushed between Bigby's thick fingers, the embers and dead ash falling to the newly polished floor, creating a little pile of smoking ash and ember while smoke still escaped freely from the still burning cigarette.

"Bigby," I tried again as I stayed glued to my seat.

My hands were still gripped to a file filled with papers and evidence, but now both my hands and the papers were shaking uncontrollably.

Bigby surged forward and his hands clamped down to the edge of my desk, the cigarette creaking and groaning between Bigby's fingers as the smoke had been cut off and the ash flowing across my desk freely.

A dark growl softly emerged from behind Bigby's chest, the growl getting caught in his throat.

"If you have a problem with the way I handle my cases, then you can get out of the Business Office, you can get out of the Woodlands, and you can get out of Fabletown and go back home to Manhattan."

"Bigby-"

He forcibly pushed himself away from my desk, jerking it towards me and allowing it to release a violent shriek of protest.

His eyes were pinning me to my seat, the golden glow forcing me to sit there in silence. I had to bite the inside of my lip to keep it from quivering. My shoulders threatened to shake violently in fear.

Why am I afraid?

What am I afraid of?

I couldn't be Bigby, I cared for him. I loved him, for fuck's sake.

* * *

A soft moan escaped from Bigby's lips the more I dotted the damp cold cloth across his tanned forehead. Sweat continued to pool up and trickle down his chiseled face. His lips parted and his eyes clenched tighter before his body relaxed once more.

"You're okay Bigby," I murmured softly. My free hand slowly crept up to his scalp and carded my fingers into the damp, thick strands of chocolate brown hair. Slowly combing my fingers through his soft hair, I continued to dab the cloth against his skin. "You're okay," I murmured again.

Another moan escaped his lips, softer this time as his hands gripped the sheets tighter before he finally let go.

His whole face had scrunched up in agony once more, gritting his sharpening teeth at the open air while a painful roar ripped through him. One of his meaty hands reached up and smacked down on his abdomen right over the bandage, right over the wound that was pulsing with agonizing pain.

My eyes darted to the end table, landing on the closed bottle of pills labeled with his name. I slowly reached over and grasped them only to drop them when Bigby's hand that was clutching his bandaged wound shot out and snatched my wrist. His eyes had shot open, his eyes tinted gold instead of honey brown and his pupils were so unnaturally small that they were nearly gone.

"No," he choked out. "No pills."

"Bigby, the doctors prescribed them for your bullet wound. You need to take one, they're his orders!" I stated as I tugged my wrist out of his grip.

"I'll be fine without 'em," he exhaled as his arm flopped down on the bed.

"I know you have faith in your abilities and your gifts or whatever you have," his eyes peered up at me, "but the doctor is only trying to help and I want you to get better quickly." Bigby eyes me out of the corner of his eye, raising a thick eyebrow at me. I puffed out my bottom lip in response. "Please?" I whimpered. "For me?"

With a soft sigh, Bigby stuck out his hand, a scowl forming on his lips as his nose twitched with annoyance. A smile quickly washed away the pout that had settled on my lips as I managed to pop the top off of the orange pill bottle. Slipping two big pills out of the small container, I gently placed them on Bigby's hand and sealed the bottle.

Bigby eyed the two white pills in his palm cautiously.

I raised a brow as I set the bottle on the nightstand.

"Do I need to slip those pills into a slice of cheese to get you to take them?" I piped up.

"No," Bigby grumbled as he popped the two pills into his mouth.

I grew suspicious when I didn't see Bigby's throat bob up and down that indicated him actually swallowing the pills. A sour look grew on Bigby's face too.

"Bigby," I stated in a warning tone.

"Yes?" he said in a quiet voice.

"Did you swallow your pills?"

"Yes."

His voice was even quieter.

"Then open your mouth and show me your supposedly empty mouth." Bigby hesitated, his eyes stuck to the ceiling. "Bigby?" I questioned.

"...Why?"

"So I know you took your medicine."

"You don't trust me?"

"Not with this, now open." Bigby hesitated for a minute before he tried to shoot up straight only to have me pin him to the bed. "Swallow."

Sighing through his nose, Bigby's throat bobbed and he opened his mouth for me to see. He even moved his tongue on his own as if he was a child going through this procedure with his mother.

"Better?" he piped up.

"Very." As I was about to get up, Bigby's hands shot out and forced me to stay. "What are you doing, Bigby?"

"I like this position," he purred as his eyebrows wiggled a bit.

My face quickly heated up as my jaw dropped open a bit.

"Bigby!"

* * *

Oh God, why did that memory have to pop up now? 

Why did that memory have to appear? To remind me of my feelings for him? The same feeling exact feelings that were being smashed right in front of me as Bigby dropped the cigarette to the floor and stamped it out.

"Go," Bigby urged as he started to march off with his shoulders stiff and his fists balled tight. "Just go."

He was quickly out of my range of sight and the sound of a slamming door was enough for me to know that I was no longer welcome here.

I quickly scrambled to my feet, grabbed my jacket and scrambled to get out. I had suddenly gotten this feeling of dread as if everything in this room had suddenly gone dark and towered over me for a purpose: To scare me to get me out of here as quickly as possible.

My hand fumbled with the doorknob and managed to slip it open just enough for me to squeeze out.

Even the hallways looked darker and more decrepit and eerie as I walked down them by myself. The elevator was the worst, the groans of metal cables and cogs turning without the sound of warm laughter and kind banter to distract me from all of these noises and these images.

Swallowing deep gulps of air, tears started to prick my eyes halfway through the elevator ride. My shoulders started to shake and my eyes were burning, whimpers and small whines escaped my lips as my breaths began to become shaky.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, I raced right out of the Woodlands, running out through the golden doors and past the wrought iron gates and down the sidewalk.

I just kept running until I had managed to reach the edge of Fabletown, felt the familiar pressure of the magical field and just kept running through the ghost town until human civilization started to creep in.

Humans.

Other humans.

I was with humans again!

Just the thought was nearly enough to distract me, but my mind grew fuzzy with thoughts of the job.

I didn't do it. I didn't solve the case of the homicide of the Darlings. I didn't catch the crook, I didn't set the Darling's souls to ease or avenge them. I didn't do anything... I failed...

The familiar yellow cab slowly curved around a corner, nobody was in the backseat and the cab driver was searching for someone with wide eyes. Tossing my hand out, his head popped up and a smile formed on his face.

Pulling over quickly, I tossed open the door and plopped down on the stiff leather seats - He must be a new driver or this must be a new car, it held that new car smell and the seats hadn't set in yet, everything looked too clean for an average car cleaning.

"Where to, ma'am?" he asked as he looked at me from his mirror.

"NYPD 19th Precinct, 153 East 67th Street," I murmured as I wiped my cheeks of stray tears.

* * *

"Where've you been, (L/n)?" multiple officers asked me as I marched through the police office.

"Not now," I stated as I made my way through the rows of desks towards the Captain's office.

I gained the attention of multiple attentions from other officers and even the sergeant as well who all started to question me until I opened the door to the Captain's room and closed it, locking it in the process.

"Officer (L/n), you're back," the Captain stated as he slipped out a file. "Here, your paperwork," he handed me the packet of paperwork. It went limp when I didn't take it within a minute. "Officer (L/n)? Your paperwork?"

"I didn't solve it, Captain," I murmured.

"Didn't solve it? Then what are you doing back here, Officer? There's a murderer out there!" He slammed the papers into the desk which bounced off and landed before me on the floor. "You just left Sheriff Wolf there without help?" he raised his voice as he stood up from his desk.

"Captain," I whimpered out.

His shoulders stiffened, he sensed that it wasn't that, this wasn't the case. He sighed and bit his lip in thought.

"Officer," he started out.

"Captain, please," I whimpered as I bent down to pick up the papers. Pushing the papers towards him, tears had started to pour down my cheeks while hiccups wracked my body. "Please."

"Alright, Officer, calm down," he murmured as he slipped the papers out of my grip. He placed the papers down into the folder they came from and closed it, he was still holding the file in his hand. He eyed the shredder next to his desk and simply popped the file in before turning it on. The paper shredded and crunched between the blades, destroying the names and information. "Come here, (Y/n)," he calmly murmured as he opened up his arms.

I found myself running up to him and having him engulf me in his arms that were tightly wrapped around me. My tears stained his white uniform shirt, my nails digging into the stiff cotton fabric while his large hands rubbed small yet soothing into my back. His large hands slowly guided me to the chair that sat across from his desk, sitting me down before leaning against his desk.

"Tell me what happened."

* * *

 

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	11. Struggle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This changes P.O.V.s in the middle (You’ll see it!)

Numb.

Dead nerves that tingle under the skin.

White static that spill through every vein in the body.

A stiffness that plagues the mind to keep anyone from moving.

My eyes burned, they felt dry and itchy and... they just burned. Throbbing beneath my swollen eyelids sat two reddened eyes, the iris' and pupils trained upwards towards the dull ceiling.

My lungs hurt, my ribs ached, every breath I took just seemed to burn my body even more. My limbs were the same way. My legs felt like they had been filled with lead dust, my arms felt as if they were being forced down by an invisible weight.

I had started to smell.

My brain felt like it was rotting.

I find myself asking a question repeatedly, a question that practically ruins me even more.

Why should I care about this? Bigby and I weren't even an item, just close.

Just close... and nothing more.

* * *

 

Sure we share a kiss and our brushes of skin lingered from time to time, but... we never really became anything, our relationship never managed to pass that boundary, that barrier, that field that made us an actual item.

So why should I care? Why should I give a shit? Why should I care this much about the words The Big Bad Wolf had said to me?

I scoffed at the name, an airy laugh barely passing through my chapped lips. Just the irony of his actual name made me finally make a noise pass through my body.

How could I ever think that The Big Bad Wolf would actually be The Big Nice Wolf? How could I ever think that with his... gentle touches and warm words, and how he fights anyone who treats women like trash and how he protects me from any fable that tries to start anything with me? How could I fall in love with that fool? The fool with those big puppy eyes, that handsome smile, his rough yet soft hands and his warm body that casts a protective shadow over me?

God, I could just feel his gaze on me.

God, if he could see me now.

What would he say to me? Would he judge me? Yell at me to get up? Bark orders at me like my old Captain? Or would he take me into his arms? Would he whisper sweet nothings into my ear? Take me into his muscular arms?

An icy pit had started to form deep within my stomach as thoughts clouded my mind as tears clouded my vision.

I felt like I was in one of those music videos for a sad song from the newest artist, playing the victim of something tragic...

God, how I fit into that category so well right now...

I just wanted to crawl into the farthest corner of the world and pass out, not caring if I was attracting wild animals from how dead I smell or if I was in some beast's cave or anything. I just wanted to go missing and never come back.

Hell, I just wanted to leave New York, get away from this state and away from the noise and away from the police... And away from Bigby... I wanted to get away from everything.

I just wanted to forget coming here. I wanted to forget becoming a police officer and working for the Manhattan Police Department and taking on this stupid job that my Captain asked me to. I regret it so much...

I regret meeting Bigby so much...

I started to take deep breaths - each one became shakier than the last - but the more I tried to gulp down air. A pathetic whimper escaped me, my body heaving and jerking with every disgusting whimper that left my body. An awful sob wracked through my body, my hands retreating to my eyes that were now spilling with tears. My hands shook as they wiped away the waterfalls of tears that were now spilling from my eyes and drenching the mattress below me. A pitiful cry emerged from beneath my chest as my body rolled over by itself, my back starting to arch over as my knees instinctively curled up to my chest and stomach. Sobs were now spilling from my mouth, snot pooling down from my once dry nostrils and drool and saliva had started to creep out from the corner of my mouth that had been smushed against the mattress.

I could just see myself with Bigby here, right next to me while I whine and cry and sniffle and snort up my snot on my mattress in my cold bedroom. It could go two ways.

One; where he rubs his hands slowly along my back and stroke the hair away from my cheeks and neck while trying to calm me down.

Or two; where he stands there, judging me with dark and sickening brown eyes while he growls out complaints about me to me.

Another cry left me as I turned my head into my mattress. I could taste my own tears on the mattress, my nose burying itself into the wet fabrics and materials. My nose snorted up snot and mucus while my body started to shake and shiver, my exposed skin had goosebumps forming along my chilled skin.

"Bigby," I found myself whimpering as my mattress.

Another sob wracked through me, my hands shooting out and snatching up the thin sheet that had been tugged over my mattress.

My body craved his warmth, my body craved to have his hands stroking my skin, caressing my body, his lips pressed to mine. He was like a drug I had become addicted to and now I was relapsing.

A few sobs broke through me followed by some coughs and the sounds of me choking on my own saliva.

Thunder clapped outside the window, lightning crackled across the air in large white branches painting the purplish sky. The hot, white lights illuminated the dark clouds above. A familiar patting and tapping against my window had stopped me from my sobbing for a split second.

My eyes peeled open for a bit and rolled to look behind me to peer at the window, water had been smacking against the window panes.

Rain.

It was a thunderstorm.

The thin water droplets had started to grow fat and large, the light tapping had turned to sound as if the water was hail. The thunder hadn't let up, instead, it only grew stronger with every clap of lightning.

Sniffling a bit, you managed to roll over to face the window, to watch as the rain fell onto my window, to watch the flashes of lightning blinked and buzzed through the air.

It distracted me for at least a good minute until the emotions just rolled back in as if it were a steamroller.

Of course, Mother Nature had to put everything else in a down mood when I was already down.

The natural light slowly crept out from my bedroom, leaving me in just the purplish light from my window save for the few flashes of white that came every minute or so.

Tears fell once more, creating new trails of wet streaks on my already wet and sticky face. An icy pit grew inside of me once more as I curled in on myself once again.

"Oh Bigby," I choked before another sob wracked through me and pushed its ways past my lips. "I'm such an idiot."

* * *

 

As I shifted my foot, bottle clinked together while some had smashed to the floor. My eyes shut tightly and my head fell back against the padding of my chair. My shoulders sank as one of my hands lifted to slap against my face, my nails digging into the skin of my jaw and scratched. I stopped, however, after scratching for not even a few seconds and felt my jaw. I stroked my roughened fingers against my jawline and chin, feeling what was once stubble now into a short beard.

Has it really been that long since I had shaved?

My eyes peeled open to stare at the ceiling. I noticed something I hadn't noticed before. There were cracks in my ceiling, dried specks of blood from when I had been beaten up and coughed up blood, and even a pen that had been jammed into the corner of the ceiling from when I got so mad I threw it in rage... I must've forgotten about it... That's been in there for years...

The front door opened and slammed closed something - or someone - had started to walk into my apartment. Just the normal smell of pig had clued me in that it was Colin. There was something else that had stuck to him, smoke.

Cigarette smoke and... was that beer?

My eyes peered open and my head raised from its place on the sunken cushion.

"So the dead lives," Colin snorted.

There was a crate of bottled beer clamped between his teeth.

"Why do you have alcohol?" I sneered as I sat up. My head started to spin and it fell into my hands. "You went out without a glamour again, didn't you?"

"How else was I supposed to get booze? You keep chugging it down thinking you can actually get drunk, but it does nothing but drain you dry of cash. And how else was I supposed to get it?" Colin stated as he dropped the crate of beer next to the desk. "Go out and have the Toads sit on my shoulders? Put a trenchcoat over the three of us and simply buy it? I don't have pride to waste, Bigs. Like I care?"

"You're gonna get sent to the farm again if you keep doing this."

"Like you can even sign the papers," Colin scoffed as he sat down. "No offense Bigs, but you smell like a landfill."

"Tell me something I don't know."

Colin grabbed one of the bottles and smashed the cap off with his teeth before leaning back.

"You miss her," he murmured before he tossed his head back.

I watched as the amber liquid spilled from the bottle into his mouth, some even dripping from his mouth.

"I already know that," I murmured.

"Well then aren't you smart?" Colin asked as he slipped the empty beer bottle into the crate.

"If I was smart, I wouldn't have done that to her."

"Yeah, you're right. I take back my comment." Colin gripped onto another bottle with his teeth and pulled it out, popping the cap off with his teeth, spitting it out and downing the bottle quickly. "What?" he snorted as he dropped the bottle next to the empty one. "Do you want me to pat your back? Say you messed up and that you can fix this? Bigby, if you're blind as a bat, I'll let you know some things. A: I don't have hands, I have hooves. And B: Fix your fucking problems!"

"I don't even know where she lives," I sighed as I stood up.

My legs shook under my weight and my hands shot out to grip onto a small table.

"You went to her police station, didn't you? Go there!"

"That's the thing, Colin. They won't let me in. The Captain won't even let in to question him about her."

"Wow," Colin smirked as he leaned back against the wall, "you fucked up big time."

"Don't you think I don't already know that, Colin?"

"Well then what are you doing here? Sitting here and moping around? Do you think this will blow off as quickly as it did for Snow?"

"She's different than Snow."

"And that's a good enough reason for you to go after her. Snow hurt you, but she's destroying you. You moping around here is just like shoving a knife into you and twisting it."

My shoulders slouched as my body finally allowed me to stand up straight. My vision was still hazy and moving from side to side, I felt sick for once in my life.

He was right. I'm doing nothing but making this worse.

"What am I going to do? Go through every apartment in Manhattan? What if she lives in Staten Island or Brooklyn?"

"You're a werewolf, The Big Bad Wolf. Can't you sniff her our or something? You have all of those fucking powers and shit, you're telling me you can't find her?"

"If I had a piece of her clothing, then yes," I grunted as I reached for my pocket.

My fingers gripped the carton of cigarettes. However, when I pulled the carton out, it was empty. Growling under my breath, I threw it to the floor and turned towards Colin only to see a large number of burnt cigarette stubs either smashed into the floorboards or in a large pile on one of the desks, turning the once white papers and files yellow, some were even burnt.

"Didn't she sleep in your bed?"

"What about it?"

"You never used the damn thing, so you never change it."

My eyes widened. I peered down at Colin who was already leaning down to grab ahold of another beer.

"I owe you one, Colin," I murmured under my breath.

"So two houses, I'm guessing? That's a lot of cigarettes and beers, Bigby. You sure you can pay for it?" he snorted with a smirk spreading across his face.

I threw open the bedroom door but stopped in the doorway. Her scent hit me like a freight train. It was strong, even after she had left about a week ago.  
I gripped the mounting of the doorway and peered back, cocking a brow.

"How about I make sure Snow doesn't drag you to Flycatcher's truck when she finds out you snuck off of the farm again?"

Colin stopped moving for a bottle of beer.

"So it's only one house you owe me, right? I'm a pig, I uh... I can't count. I don't have fingers, Bigby, you should know this."

Smirking at the pig I stormed into the bedroom and snatched up the pillows before inhaling them. They still smelled of her. It was still sweet and warm, so much like her.

A sharp knock cut my thoughts off, my eyes shooting over to my front door.

"Bigby!" a female voice called out.

"Snow?" I murmured to myself.

Pacing over to the front door and prying it open, Snow stood in front of me with worry in her eyes.

"Bigby, you need to go talk to her!" she ordered as she shoved a piece of paper into my hands. It was an address, an apartment building in Southern Manhattan.

"Go to her, I'll take care of your apartment, just go to her!"

I nodded quickly, suddenly feeling the weight of the world collapsing on my shoulders, it had suddenly become hard to breathe. My body raced past her as I rushed down the hall. As my body breaked to turn, I stopped and eyed Snow.

"How did you know?" I asked.

"A little pig told me," she smirked before stepping in and closing the door.

* * *

[Buy me a Coffee](https://www.buymeacoffee.com/AJhuWmE80)


	12. Cry Wolf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Mentions of NSFW about halfway.

Warm ceramic was cupped between my hands, steam slowly curled into the air under my chin and nose. Just the feeling of the warm steam grazing my cold skin helped take my mind off of everything. My eyes slowly opened to look down at the tea sitting in the cup, waiting to be consumed. It was a recipe I got online, something that can help warm anyone up whether it would be from actually chills to sadness.

Slowly lifting the ceramic up to my lips, I tilted the mug back and allowed the warm liquid to wash down my throat, slowly creeping its way into my abdomen and sitting comfortably in my belly. I felt warmer already. A small smile spread across my face as I tipped my head back once more, taking another long sip of the warm tea.

It hadn't stopped raining, this was day three of the storm. The rain and the thunder hadn't lightened up either, it was still coming down hard.

Was it a hurricane that I was just too busy crying to notice? Too busy distracted to even hear an alert going off on my phone or on a radio or anything?

My eyes shut, my head stayed tipped back while my hands placed the mug down on the counter before me.

"I'm not gonna think about him," I sighed as I stood up from the counter. "I'm not gonna think about his name," I stated confidently as I grabbed my mug and wandered away from my kitchen. "I'm not gonna think about his rugged face, or his big hands or his handsome body or his amazing personality," I ordered as I wandered into my bedroom. A knock on the front door stirred me out of my rambling orders. "I'm not gonna let him into my life," I huffed as I marched through the house.

Upon opening the door, I stood stock still and didn't move a single muscle.

There he stood, soaking wet with a barely lit cigarette clamped between his teeth. His chocolate brown eyes were illuminated by the slow-burning embers inside of his cigarette. He was shaking, his hands were pressed against the molding of the front door, he was hunched over and he was out of breath. His eyes were a pale red, red veins pulsing through his tired orbs. There were even bags under his eyes... well... bigger and darker than they usually were.

I stilled. I stood still. I stood there doing nothing when my mind was screaming at the rest of me to do something!

My brain was screaming at me to slam the door in his face, to push him away and kick him out of my life. My heart, on the other hand, told my brain that I should forgive him. He was stressed and overworked and just broke down like an old car on a highway.

"Hi," he stated as his hands slid off of the molding.

My brain finally took over and my foot hooked behind my door and made it slam closed in his face. The slammed shut and echoed throughout my apartment as well as the hallway.

A part of me felt horrible for doing that, but the other parts cheered on in victory.

I was left standing there, staring at my front door in confusion and worry. Do I open the door? Let him explain himself? Let him in?

Another knock jostled me out of my thoughts, the room seemed to still and the air stayed thick.

I don't know what possessed me to reach out to touch the cold doorknob and turn it, opening the creaking door to reveal Bigby still standing there. At least he gained some control over his panting and he was standing up straighter. His hair was brushed back and his face was cleared of raindrops and sweat. I was finally able to get a better look at him without rage clouding my vision. His stubble was grown out more and his eyebrows were a complete mess. He just looked tired and exhausted, as if he hasn't slept for days on end. He didn't smell of cigarette smoke though, and he was dress in a clean white shirt and a clean black tie and slacks and shoes, it all looked new. The white wasn't stained a pale yellow from his smoking, there were no ash scars on the black and the shoes were a bright, shiny black that looked to be fresh out of the box from an expensive store.

What was he doing?

My hand that was still on the doorknob twitched, I wanted to slam the door in his face again. Harder this time.

"I deserved that," he stated.

My mind took over once more and my arm shot out, the door slamming closed once more. I wanted to scold my hand for doing this again, but my brain argued that this was necessary.

I forced myself to open the door up as soon as he was about to knock, catching him with his balled fist in the air.

"I'm sorry," he stated as he moved a foot forward. He placed it slightly inside of my apartment, that way his shoe could stop the door from slamming shut.

"Please, just hear me out."

A sigh escaped from my nose as I took a step back.

"Come in," I stated.

He carefully entered, making sure to slip his shoes off and leaving them by the door. I wandered over to the small closet by the front door and tossed it open only to grab a few towels and closed the door.

As I walked back to him, I tossed the towels onto him and stood still with my arms crossed over my chest.

"Thanks," he mumbled as he pulled them off of his face and shoulders.

"You have five minutes, Sheriff Wolf," I sighed as I leaned against the arm of my couch.

"I didn't mean to yell at you or tell you to get out of Fabletown. Shit, I shouldn't have allowed myself to say that shit to you at all. I had no place," he groaned as he scraped his hair with the towels. He started to smell like wet dog, which didn't surprise me at all. "You were new, you volunteered to come to Fabletown to help me and I bet you never told anyone anything about us besides your Captain."

"No, I didn't tell anyone," I murmured as I looked down.

He reached over and scooped my hands into his large paws and squeezed them. My breath hitched in my throat as he came closer, now standing right in front of me.

"I'm so sorry, (Y/n)."

The towels slid off of his body and fell to the floor with soft, wet slaps. His hands let go of mine only to move up and grip my shoulders, then moving them up to grip the sides of my head. He brushed away any hair that was on my face so he could see my face fully.

I pulled away and backed up. There was something building up in my chest, something was coiling inside of me. Why was I feeling like this?

"It's fine," I stated as I looked him over.

"It's not," he grunted as he stood up straight. He quickly walked up to me, following me as I backed up even more until he had me pinned up against a wall. He didn't place his hands on the wall, he placed them in my hands and slipped his thick fingers in between mine. "I hurt you," he murmured as his face was before mine. It was barely two inches away from mine, his nose so close to brushing mine. I could feel his hot breath against my lips, it smelled absent of tobacco smoke. "I hurt you," he repeated as he brought his forehead to mine.

His lips were so close to mine and our noses were pressed against each other. He was just so warm now, the water dripping off of him barely covered the heat he was giving off.

"Bigby," I whimpered.

The coils in my chest had slowly lowered so they could live in my stomach as well. They were just coiling tighter, heat was starting to bloom from my lower body as my breathing started to wobble.

This was agony.

How could he do this to me? How could he make me feel this way in just a matter of seconds?

My head tilted upwards just a bit and I found my lips connecting with his. There was no vile taste of tobacco, no twists of whiskey or bourbon, his mouth was completely clean with only a minty taste left in it.

The coils inside of me started to slowly unwind, my stomach feeling lighter and my mind starting to cloud with sensation and ecstasy. I started to see stars as soon as Bigby pushed himself against me, he was nipping at my lip and pulling me closer by the sides of my head. Moans escaped both of us as I was starting to be crushed between Bigby and the wall.

A dark growl escaped Bigby as he picked me up with both arms, he stumbled around a bit before finding his footing as he started to wander around aimlessly in my apartment until we both fell onto my bed.

 

* * *

 

 

Our backs fell to the mattress in unison, we both bounced for a split second until our bodies soon fell flat. Our hair was wet and sticky with sweat and our mouths were hung open while we desperately tried to catch our breaths. I pulled the thin sheets close to my naked breasts while Bigby ran his fingers through his hair.

"Fuck," he grumbled between gasps of air.

I peered over at him for a split second, eyeing his glistening chest and back and arms. He looked amazing.

"Was I your first non-Fable?" you joked.

"I don't even remember having a first," he laughed. "I'm too old to remember anything from back then." A snicker left my lips as I moved to face Bigby. His honey brown hues peered over at me, his lips curled into a smirk. My face scrunched up a bit as if I had a lemon slice in my mouth. "What? What's that face for?"

"I don't like this," I stated as my fingers reached over and grabbed a hold of his beard hair. I gave it a slight tug. "Get rid of it."

"I plan to when we get back to the Woodlands. Until then, you're stuck with this ugly thing."

"It's not ugly," I huffed as I moved closer to him, "it just doesn't suit your handsome face."

Bigby laughed as he turned to face you. He propped an arm up on the pillows to keep his head up, making sure to keep his honey-brown eyes on me. His lips dropped down, his face was serious again. His unoccupied hand reached out to cup my hands that had been laid out before me on the mattress. He gave them a gentle squeeze while maintaining eye contact.

"I really am sorry," he murmured as his warm, rough palm rubbed against my skin.

"Don't worry about it anymore, Bigby. I forgive you," I murmured as I lifted my head just a bit.

He pulled me close to him by my arm until our naked chests smacked against each other. His hand on my arm had moved up to my chin where he tilted my head just enough for our noses to touch. Our lips hovered over each other, our hot breaths mixing in the air as our eyes fluttered shut. Slowly, we started to move closer to each other. Our lips were just barely touching.

A loud, mechanical chime rang through my quiet apartment, vibrations mixing in while making sure to only increase the amount of noise it was making by vibrating against glass. My phone that had been abandoned on the kitchen counters not too long ago was ringing.

* * *

[Buy me a Coffee](https://www.buymeacoffee.com/AJhuWmE80)


	13. All Stories Have An Ending

"Bluebeard?" I murmured as I looked down at the photos before us.

There was at least a dozen of them scattered across the table. It was all him, his bald head and blueish-black beard were iconic to me now. His face was twisted in anger in all of these photos, however, the people he was mad at were cast in the shadows.

"Where did you get these photos, Snow?" Bigby asked as he shuffled through the photos in his hands.

"They were placed on Grumble's desk. You know how he is, he's always asleep. He just woke up and there was this envelope with these in it," she stated as she passed Bigby the large manilla envelope.

Bigby sniffed the envelope a bit before pulling back. His face was twisted in confusion.

"What is it?"

"I don't smell anything. Are you sure Grumble didn't see anyone?"

"He was passed right out. It's shocking really, he always keeps track of people when they come in and out of the Woodlands. He didn't catch anyone putting this on his desk though."

Bigby shuffled the last photo to the front of the pile and his eyes widened.

"What is it?" I questioned.

* * *

 

"All the evidence we need," he stated as he turned the photo towards us.  
Snow gasped softly while my eyes widened.

The photograph was clear as day. It looked like it was taken from inside of a closet, the slats of the wood were just spaced out enough for the photographer to capture this. It was Bluebeard, his face was twisted in pure rage as his large hands were clamped down on a child's neck. Her brown curls were everywhere, her pal porcelain face was red and blue as her little hands were trying to free her neck from his grip. There were two small bodies lying across the ground, they had red necks and wet purple faces and their eyes were glazed over and bulging out from their skulls slightly.

It looked awful.

Were those the Darling children?

"So it was Bluebeard?" I whispered.

"And Mary. Look closer at the back," Bigby stated with a satisfied smirk.

Squinting my eyes a bit, my vision narrowed in on the back walls of the room they were in. The room was dim, what little lighting did nothing to help my search across the cheap wallpaper until my eyes came to a stop.

She was there.

She was leaning up against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest. There was a wicked smile spreading across her freckled cheeks as she was eyeing Bluebeard's work.

"Who took this? Who took the photo?" I asked as I looked up to him.

"We don't know. I can't catch a scent on any of this and you know that Grumble was asleep when this envelope appeared. We have no leads for this envelope but we do have an actual lead now."

"What was his motive though? Why would he just kill three children in cold blood?"

"Look at these," Bigby stated as he shuffled photos around in his hands.

He quickly turned four photos towards me. They were all the same as the one with the Wendy, John, and Michael. It was taken in a closet in the same room.

One was of Bluebeard and a thin woman with brown hair and green eyes. They were both smiling. Bluebeard was holding her close to his body.

"Who is that?"

"I'm guessing Mary Darling, the mother."

The next was of Mary with a stout man with black hair and a mustache. They were arguing, fingers pointed at each other and hands balled into tight fists. The door to the room was opened slightly, it showed all three of the children peeking in to watch their mother fight with someone.

"I'm guessing that's the father?"

"Edward Darling, no doubt about it. He's been argumental ever since we had to leave the Homelands."

The third was of Mary, Edward and now Bluebeard who were all arguing. Bluebeard's hands were wrapped around Edward's shirt collar while Mary was trying to stop Bluebeard.

"He found out.”

"They always do."

The last was of Mary and Bluebeard. She was in his arms, blood oozing from her abdomen. A knife was clutched in Bluebeard's hand. He most likely ripped it out of her considering what little you just got on Edward.

"He wanted revenge."

"So he killed their children."

"Then who took the pictures?"

"I'm guessing it was Liza. Her and Mary were close. Bluebeard must've found out and offed her."

"Do you think Edward brought these to us?"

"No, I would smell it on all of this. People like that have that sort of smell on them if you know what I mean."

"Then who did it?"

"Don't know?" he shrugged.

"Maybe it was Peter?" Snow suggested.

"I don't know, but this is enough evidence for me to lock Bluebeard and Mary up for good," Bigby stated as he waved the photographs around in the air.

"Should I even bother setting up a trial with a jury?" Snow sighed as she placed her hands on her hips.

"If we're gonna follow the rules, then go ahead."

"Are we?" she rolled her eyes. She pinched the bridge of her small nose. "I should ask the better question: Are you going to follow the rules?"

"Probably not considering Bluebeard helped set up the rules so I can't do anything to a Fabletown donor."

"What happens if King Cole finds out?"

"You think he's gonna listen to Bluebeard? He only listens to him because he's a donor for Fabletown funds. If the jury you're gonna set up rules his guilty and charges him with the Wishing Well penalty, Fabletown gets everything."

"What about his butler?"

"He's free to go. The poor man must be sick and tired of dealing with Bluebeard's shit." Bigby pocketed the photos and took a cigarette from a carton in his front pocket. "King Cole only cares about keeping Fabletown up and running. That requires money, a lot of it. If he could get access to all of Bluebeard's wealth, he wouldn't hesitate at all to agree with everything that we have."

"I suppose you're right. Fabletown is his first priority and everyone is always worried about the funds."

"Are we going after them?" I asked.

"I'm going after him. You're not, you're staying here."

"Bigby," you started with anger bubbling inside of you.

He gripped your shoulders.

"I'm going after Mary. Bluebeard is coming back to the Woodlands. He thinks nobody knows, he's that sure he's safe."

"Am I just going to arrest him?"

"That's the plan."

"Bigby, he's not just going to let her arrest him," Snow stated as her hands retreated from her hips.

"Why not shoot him?" a tawny voice called out.

"Bufkin, we don't even have a gun," Snow stated as she turned towards the green flying monkey.

Both Bigby and I turned so we could see Bufkin behind Snow only for the three of us to softly gasp upon seeing the flying monkey holding a gun.

Why did it look familiar to me?

You gasped again, this time it was louder. Your eyebrows arched in anger.

"That's my gun!" I called out. Bufkin smiled sheepishly as held the gun out. "You stole my gun?"

Snow took the gun away from Bufkin quickly and passed it to me. Quickly, I pulled out the magazine to only see it was still full.

"He steals everything when nobody is looking or paying attention," she scoffed as Bigby rolled his eyes at the monkey. "Wine, bills, books, wallets, purses. He even stole Frank's tv remote so much we had to get rid of his tv because someone took advantage of a head without a body."

Bufkin shrank back a bit, his tail curling around his ankles in fear. His smile was still plastered on his face.

"I never took it off my body though. It stayed on my belt at all times," you stated as you looked at your side to the empty holster.

"We don't have a lot of time to get this all done," Bigby called out as he started for the door. "(Y/n), get Bluebeard and arrest him. I'm going after Mary." He stopped as soon as he pulled the door open. "Have Swineheart on speed dial," he calmly said before he closed the door behind him.

Snow and I looked at each other with shock in our eyes.

"Do you need help with Bluebeard? He can dangerous on your own."

"That would be great, Snow."

* * *

 

"I don't see why you two need into Mr. Bluebeard's apartment," Flycatcher stated as he pulled keys apart from the large ring, "but if this is for Bigby, then I guess it must be okay."

"Just trust us Flycatcher, this is important," Snow calmly stated.

"You know how to wield a gun, right?" I asked the black-head next to me.

"Of course I do. Bigby showed me how a few years ago."

"A gun?" Flycatcher asked as the door finally opened. "Is Mr. Bluebeard in trouble?"

"A lot of trouble," I stated.

"Don't say a word, Fly. This is a very important job," Snow called as she slipped into the apartment.

The door closed but didn't lock.

Flycatcher didn't say another word, instead, he just took a hold of the mop handle and pushed the mop cart down the hall acting like he never saw us.

I stood there for maybe ten minutes when the click of loafers against the nicer carpets caught my attention. I kicked my heel against the front door of the apartment to let Snow know before I stood up straight and faced in his direction.

He soon appeared before me with a plastic grocery bag in hand.

"Oh, hello Officer..." he trailed off as he stopped walking. He eyed you questionably. "It seems I forgot your name, how rude."

"Officer (L/n)," you corrected him.

"Well then, hello Officer (L/n). What can I do for you?" he smiled.

"Bluebeard, you are under arrest for the murders of Wendy Darling, John Darling, and Michael Darling as well as becoming a suspect in Liza's murder. Place the grocery bag down and put your hands up," I ordered as I pulled the handcuffs from my belt.

Bluebeard laughed.

"Is this some kind of joke? Or is this some sort of training Bigby is putting you through? You're doing well, I think even Gren would cower at you," Bluebeard complimented.

"This is not a joke nor a sort of training. We have evidence of you and Bloody Mary, photographs of what happened before and after Edward found out about you and Mary." You unlocked the handcuffs and looked up at his shocked face. The color had left it. "Now put the grocery bag down and put your hands up."

"I'll do no such thing!" Bluebeard snapped as he tossed the bag into the wall. Something cracked in it, something fragile. "I will not follow the orders of a mundy police officer. I do not care if you are under our sheriff's jurisdiction or for the borough of Manhattan. You do not order me what to do, mundy," he snapped as he got closer to me.

"I hoped you would actually come quietly," you sighed.

The door kicked open and slammed against the wall as Snow appeared.

The gun's safety clicked off as she aimed it at his shoulder, her painted acrylic nail ready at the trigger.

"Hands up, Bluebeard," she ordered.

"Snow?" he snarled.

He refused to put his hands up. Snow quickly aimed for the ground between his feet and shot, the explosion from the gun made the three of us jump as the bullet lodged itself into the wooden floor (or possibly into the next floor's flooring).

She aimed the gun back at his shoulder.

"We're not asking you again. Hands. Up. Now. You are under arrest."

The man heaved a sigh and slowly raised his hands.

He got to his lower torso when he went to snatch something from his pocket, something reflective and sharp. I stepped back as soon as I saw the handle of the knife retract from his pocket. A shout was clogged in my throat as I eyed Snow who was already eyeing me.

Her finger twitched on the trigger until she finally clamped down on it. Another explosion and blood flew from Bluebeard's shoulder, sending his other shoulder out with his hand following.

The pocketknife came flying towards you, blade first.

It felt like everything was in slow motion as you tried to stumble out of the knife's way.

Slowly bending back and to the left, the knife barely scraped your cheek before lodging itself into the nice carpet.

Bluebeard fell to his knees while he clutched his shoulder.

It took both Snow and I a minute to collect ourselves until I surged forward. Grabbing Bluebeard's large hands, I pinned them to him back and started to cuff him.

"Bluebeard, you are under arrest for the murders of Wendy Darling, John Darling, and Michael Darling as well as becoming a suspect in Liza's murder. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law with your own peers." The handcuffs clicked shut. I kicked his shins and grabbed the collar of his shirt. "Stand up. I know how Fables can take hits worse than that and still fight. The Woodsman got an ax to the back of his head and he managed to crawl away without leaving a blood trail."

Bluebeard grumbled as he slowly clambered up to his feet before stumbling down the hallway with Snow and I right behind him.

* * *

 

I pulled the soft sheets back before fluffing the pillow. Anxiety was bubbling up in my chest, my hands were shaking and I couldn't keep a straight mind. I was too worried about him, I was worried about what could've happened in that fight with Bloody Mary, I was worried if he was injured or if it was worse than injured.

What was taking them so long?

Was it really that bad?

I paced the room, my feet shuffling around against the flooring and my hands were knotted together in worry. I was on the verge of freaking out. I was on the verge of tears. The phone in my pocket felt like a brick, it was weighing down my legs.

It didn't help that the apartment was deathly silent. Snow had left to call Swineheart and wait for him in the lobby. Colin was nowhere to be found. Nobody was here except for me. There was no noise either. No noisy neighbors, no arguing between couples or blaring music.

It was just so... unlike New York. Fabletown is no different than New York.

I was too focused on the absent noises that I hadn't realized the front door had opened.

I fished my phone from my pocket to check once more only to deflate when I saw I had no new messages or missed calls.

A hulking shadow had cast over me, and upon whirling around, my jaw drop and eyes widened upon seeing him. It was an even greater shock to see him in this form.

Fur was matted and knotted. It was sticking up on end as if he was a scared dog while some chunks of fur had been pushed down from blood. He was panting and his ears were twitching and his body was shaking. His pupils grew larger the longer he stared at me.

"Bigby," I smiled. A small growl left him as his shoulders deflated. "You're okay," I whimpered as he slowly moved closer to me. My hands slowly came up to card into the thick fur on the sides of his face, a growl left him as his eyes closed and he pushed himself closer to my hands. Glass clung to his fur and to the blood. "What happened to Mary?"

"She's not a problem anymore," someone called as they entered the apartment. Swineheart slowly came into the bedroom with his bag in tow. "Adrenaline is still coursing through him. It may take a while for him to really come back to you in flesh. I hope you're alright with fur for a bit."

"That's fine," I smiled as Bigby opened his yellow eyes.

A content growl escaped him as I started to scratch at his jaw.

"I've already removed anything harmful and cleaned up his wounds. There was nothing major, just scratches and scrapes, nothing the old boy can't handle." Swineheart smiled. "Take care of him. I think he avoided the usual amount of damage because of you." I looked towards the doctor and smiled more.

"Goodbye sheriff, officer," he nodded before turning around.

"Goodbye Swineheart," I murmured.

As soon as the door closed, Bigby surged forward into my hands and pressed his forehead to mine, a growl leaving him before he heaved a content sigh. My thumbs ran over his furry chin as I took in his face, my eyes tracing over his fangs protruding from his lip and his gray furry face.

"I love you," I murmured.

"Stay," he grumbled out.

"Stay?"

"Stay," repeated.

"I'm staying here with you tonight, I am. You don't have to worry. I'm here for tonight."

Sadness started to sit heavy in the pit of your stomach.

The case was done, the culprits were caught (one may have died resisting arrest), but now the Darling children could be put to rest.

I had to return tomorrow, and I would probably never get to work on another case with Bigby.

"Stay," he repeated.

He pulled his head back and looked into my eyes, he lowered his hulking body just so he could be eye level with me.

"You want me to stay here? With you?"

A growl rumbled through him as he nudged me back until my legs hit the base of the bed. I found myself falling onto the mattress quickly. His large hands came up and grabbed a hold of the mattress on either sides of me. His claws dug into the blankets as he drew closer. His warm breath hit my face and his nose twitched as his pupils started to shrink. They shined bright, he was pleading with them.

"I'll stay with you."

He growled once more, louder this time as he nuzzled his face closer to mine.

My fingers carded into the fur on his chest as we both fell back onto the mattress. His large hands cupped my waist, his claws brushed along the edge of my pants and the points of his claws met my warm skin. Shivers went down my spine as his eyes never left mine.

His large, furry hands slowly crept under my shirt and slowly, he gently placed his large hands on my waist, his roughened palms sitting on my curves as he slowly moved them in small circles.

And I stayed.

* * *

 

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this.  
> :3


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